essed to Miss Ruth Morton. The maid, seeing no reason to do
otherwise, brought it to the girl as she sat at the table. Mrs. Morton,
who had been at the rear of the apartment, hurried in as she heard the
sound of the doorbell, but by the time she had reached the dining room,
Ruth had already opened and read the message. She sat staring at a bit
of yellow paper, her face pale and drawn.

"What is it, dear?" Mrs. Morton cried, hurrying to her side.

Ruth picked up the telegram and handed it to her mother.

"Another threat," she said, quietly. "These people, whoever they are,
seem to be in deadly earnest."

Mrs. Morton took the telegram and hurriedly read it.

"Even the beauty of the rose," the message said, "cannot endure for
twenty-seven days." There was no signature to the telegram.

A look of the deepest apprehension crept into Mrs. Morton's eyes, but
she turned away, so that Ruth might not realize her fears.

"Pay no attention to the matter, Ruth," she said, in tones suddenly
grown a trifle unsteady. "It is certainly nothing more than a stupid
joke."

"Well, mother, of course you may be right, but for my part, I have a
feeling that it isn't a joke at all, but a real and very terrible
threat. What is to prevent these people, whoever they are, from
attacking me--sending me some infernal machine in the disguise of a box
or package, which, as soon as I open it, might burn or blind or
otherwise disfigure me so that my life would be ruined?" She rose and
glanced at herself in the mirror which hung over the mantel. Already
there were deep circles of anxiety beneath her eyes, while the lines of
her face, usually sweet and placid, were now those of an anxious and
frightened woman. The first threat had upset her far more than her
mother had realized. The one just received had intensified the effect a
hundredfold.

"But you mustn't open any packages, my child. Be very careful about
that. And Robert must not stop the car, under any circumstances, in
going to or from the studio. There, at least, I believe you are quite
safe. I will have a talk with Mr. Edwards to-day, and explain matters to
him. And here you cannot possibly be in any danger. Meanwhile, in spite
of what you say, I still beg you not to let this matter prey upon your
mind. I cannot, will not, take it seriously." Poor Mrs. Morton, herself
thoroughly frightened, strove with all her might to convince Ruth that
she had nothing to fear. She knew the girl's intens