olution, Mrs. Ferrari's heart beat as if it would
burst out of her bosom, when her conductress led her into an ante-room,
and knocked at a door opening into a room beyond. But it is remarkable
that persons of sensitively-nervous organisation are the very persons
who are capable of forcing themselves (apparently by the exercise of a
spasmodic effort of will) into the performance of acts of the most
audacious courage. A low, grave voice from the inner room said, 'Come
in.' The maid, opening the door, announced, 'A person to see you,
Miladi, on business,' and immediately retired. In the one instant
while these events passed, timid little Mrs. Ferrari mastered her own
throbbing heart; stepped over the threshold, conscious of her clammy
hands, dry lips, and burning head; and stood in the presence of Lord
Montbarry's widow, to all outward appearance as supremely
self-possessed as her ladyship herself.

It was still early in the afternoon, but the light in the room was dim.
The blinds were drawn down. Lady Montbarry sat with her back to the
windows, as if even the subdued daylight were disagreeable to her. She
had altered sadly for the worse in her personal appearance, since the
memorable day when Doctor Wybrow had seen her in his consulting-room.
Her beauty was gone--her face had fallen away to mere skin and bone;
the contrast between her ghastly complexion and her steely glittering
black eyes was more startling than ever. Robed in dismal black,
relieved only by the brilliant whiteness of her widow's cap--reclining
in a panther-like suppleness of attitude on a little green sofa--she
looked at the stranger who had intruded on her, with a moment's languid
curiosity, then dropped her eyes again to the hand-screen which she
held between her face and the fire. 'I don't know you,' she said.
'What do you want with me?'

Mrs. Ferrari tried to answer. Her first burst of courage had already
worn itself out. The bold words that she had determined to speak were
living words still in her mind, but they died on her lips.

There was a moment of silence. Lady Montbarry looked round again at
the speechless stranger. 'Are you deaf?' she asked. There was another
pause. Lady Montbarry quietly looked back again at the screen, and put
another question. 'Do you want money?'

'Money!' That one word roused the sinking spirit of the courier's
wife. She recovered her courage; she found her voice. 'Look at me, my
lady, if you please,' she said, with