nd tightly folded twist of paper upon the floor. Preparing
herself for a delicious bit of sentiment, she tenderly unfolded and
smoothed it out.

"Verses!" she exclaimed rapturously; but the next instant her pleasure
gave place to a look of the extremest mystification.

"What does this mean?" she gasped.

There was, in fact, some excuse for her perplexity, since the precise
text of the enclosure ran thus:

"TO LORD TULLIWUDDLE.

"O Chieftain, trample on this heath
Which lies thy springing foot beneath!
It can recover from thy tread,
And once again uplift its head!
But spare, O Chief, the tenderer plant,
Because when trampled on, it can't!
"EVA."

Too confounded for coherent speculation, the Baroness continued to stare
at this baffling effusion. Who Lord Tulliwuddle and Eva were; why
this glimpse into their drama (for such it appeared to be) should be
forwarded to her; and where the Baron von Blitzenberg came into the
story--these, among a dozen other questions, flickered chaotically
through her mind for some minutes. Again and again she studied the
cryptogram, till at last a few definite conclusions began to crystallize
out of the confusion. That the "tenderer plant" symbolized the lady
herself, that she was a person to be regarded with extreme suspicion,
and that emphatically the bouquet was never originally intended for the
Baroness von Blitzenberg, all became settled convictions. The fact that
she knew Tulliwuddle to be an existing peerage afforded her some relief;
yet the longer she pondered on the problem of Rudolph's part in the
episode, the more uneasy grew her mind.

Composing her face before the mirror till it resumed its normal
round-eyed placidity, she locked the letter and its contents in a safe
place, and sought out her mother.

"Did you get any letter, dear, by the last post?" inquired the Countess
as soon as she had entered the room.

"Nothing of importance, mamma."

That so sweet and docile a daughter should stoop to deceit was
inconceivable. The Countess merely frowned her disappointment and
resumed the novel which she was beguiling the hours between eating and
eating again.

"Mamma," said the Baroness presently, "can you tell me whether heather
is found in many other European countries?"

The Countess raised her firmly penciled eyebrows.

"In some, I believe. What a remarkable question, Alicia."

"I was thinking