st my coin
and that's the end of it. I don't intend to have the evening spoiled for
a thing like that. Music! ladies, music and a jolly air! No more dumps."
And with as hearty a laugh as he could command in face of the sombre
looks he encountered on every side, he led the way back into the
music-room.

Once there the women seemed to recover their spirits; that is, such as
remained. One had disappeared. A door opened from this room into the
main hall and through this a certain young lady had vanished before the
others had had time to group themselves about the piano. We know who
this lady was; possibly, we know, too, why her hostess did not follow
her.

Meanwhile, Mr. Clifford had gone upstairs for his coat, and was
lingering there, the prey of some very bitter reflections. Though he had
encountered nobody on the stairs, and neither heard nor saw any one in
the halls, he felt confident that he was not unwatched. He remembered
the look on the butler's face as he tore himself away from Hammersley's
restraining hand, and he knew what that fellow thought and also was
quite able to guess what that fellow would do, if his suspicions were
farther awakened. This conviction brought an odd and not very open smile
to his face, as he finally turned to descend the one flight which
separated him from the front door he was so ardently desirous of closing
behind him for ever.

A moment and he would be down; but the steps were many and seemed to
multiply indefinitely as he sped below. Should his departure be noted,
and some one advance to detain him! He fancied he heard a rustle in the
open space under the stairs. Were any one to step forth, Robert
or----With a start, he paused and clutched the banister. Some one had
stepped forth; a woman! The swish of her skirts was unmistakable. He
felt the chill of a new dread. Never in his short but triumphant career
had he met coldness or disapproval in the eye of a woman. Was he to
encounter it now? If so, it would go hard with him. He trembled as he
turned his head to see which of the four it was. If it should prove to
be his hostess----But it was not she; it was Darrow's young friend, the
pretty inconsequent girl he had chatted with at the dinner-table, and
afterwards completely forgotten in the events which had centred all his
thoughts upon himself. And she was standing there, waiting for him! He
would have to pass her,--notice her,--speak.

But when the encounter occurred and their eyes m