uth,
she really did not look ill; but just--well, just frightened. That is
about the only way I can express it. She really looked frightened."

"But what could possibly have frightened her?" frowned Hayden. "Did she
give you any clue?"

"None whatever. As I say, she seemed to be thinking of something else,
all the time she was speaking to me of perfectly extraneous subjects,
until at last, I felt that I was taxing her powers of self-command, and
that the kindest thing I could do was to leave her to herself, since she
would not give me her confidence."

"Strange," murmured Hayden. "But don't you think it was probably some
absurd or tyrannical action of her mother's that caused her unhappiness?"

"It wasn't exactly unhappiness," objected Mrs. Habersham. "It was more as
if she had had some kind of a shock, and could not immediately recover
from it. Of course, I am only giving you my impressions, but it was more
as if she feared something, and this fear, whatever it was, grew instead
of decreasing."

"Did you happen to learn how she had been putting in her time all day?"
Hayden's mind went back to that telegram which had been handed
Mademoiselle Mariposa at the luncheon the day before, the telegram from
the mysterious man, a message of interest to both Ydo and Marcia. Could
that have anything to do with Marcia's present state of mind? He recalled
the puzzled and faintly alarmed gaze she had turned first on the Mariposa
and then on himself at the conclusion of the luncheon yesterday, and
instead of finding any light in these reflections, he seemed to plunge
deeper into the darkness.

He shook his head slowly, completely perplexed.

"Did she tell you how she had put in her day?" he repeated.

"Let me see," Mrs. Habersham thought a moment, "she had been at
Mademoiselle Mariposa's early in the afternoon; but what she did before
that, I do not know. Of course, I suppose, she spent the morning at--at
her studio."

"She had been at the Mariposa's? Are you sure?" questioned Hayden.

"Oh, positive." Bea lifted her face to look at him in surprise. "Yes, I
distinctly remember her saying so. We were speaking of what we were to
wear to-night, and she mentioned Mademoiselle Mariposa's costume
particularly. She said she had seen it this afternoon, that Ydo, as she
calls her, had shown it to her."

"Mrs. Habersham," Hayden looked down at her, his square face set, his
eyes full of decision, "I do not believe that I am prying in