ehension crept into her eyes, but
she did her best to appear unconcerned.

"Some crank," she said, after she had mastered the sudden fear that
swept over her. "I shouldn't pay any attention to it, if I were you, my
dear. There are a lot of people in the world that have nothing better to
do, than play silly jokes like that."

"Then you don't think it amounts to anything?" Ruth asked, somewhat
relieved.

"Certainly not. Just a stupid plan to frighten you. Pay no attention to
it. No"--she folded the letter as the girl put out her hand--"I'll take
charge of this. Now you'd better hurry and get ready. The car will be
waiting for you at nine, and Mr. Edwards expects to start that new
picture to-day, doesn't he?"

"Yes." The girl rose. "It's a beautiful part. I'm the daughter of an old
music teacher, who dies in Brooklyn, and leaves me in poverty. And later
on, it turns out he was the heir to the throne of Moravia, and I'm a
princess. Lots of adventures, and spies, and all that. Ralph Turner is
the lover. He's awfully good-looking, don't you think?"

Mrs. Morton assented in rather a preoccupied way, as her daughter left
the room. She was still thinking of the brutal threat which the girl had
just received, and of the possible dangers to which she might as a
result be exposed. Mrs. Morton by no means felt the matter to be a joke,
in spite of the assurances she had given Ruth. The tone of the letter,
the evident care which had been taken to prevent the identity of the
writer from becoming known, filled her with the gravest alarm.

As she sat pondering the matter, Nora came into the room, with Ruth's
dust coat and parasol in her hands. Mrs. Morton beckoned to the girl,
then spoke to her in a low voice.

"Nora," she said, "Miss Ruth received a letter this morning, from
somebody who is envious of her beauty and success. I pretended to make
light of the matter, but there may be something back of it. I want you
to watch her carefully while you are away from the house. Be on your
guard every moment of the time. Don't let anyone come near her. They
might try to throw acid, or something of the sort. I shan't feel safe
until she is home again."

The maid's face lit up with a significant smile. From her manner it was
clear that she fairly worshiped her young mistress.

"I'll not let anyone do her any harm, Mrs. Morton," she said, earnestly.
"You may be sure of that."

"And don't let her know," Mrs. Morton added hastily, in a l