kins made before she sidled out of the door and left me
alone with the mystery. It was one of those situations--I am obliged to
repeat this over and over--that was too preposterous for me to believe
even while I was surrounded and overwhelmed by its reality. I didn't
dare face what I thought, I didn't dare face even what I felt; but I
went to bed shivering in a warm room, while I resolved passionately that
if the chance ever came to me I would stand between Mrs. Vanderbridge
and this unknown evil that threatened her.

In the morning Mrs. Vanderbridge went out shopping, and I did not see
her until the evening, when she passed me on the staircase as she was
going out to dinner and the opera. She was radiant in blue velvet, with
diamonds in her hair and at her throat, and I wondered again how any one
so lovely could ever be troubled.

"I hope you had a pleasant day, Miss Wrenn," she said kindly. "I have
been too busy to get off any letters, but tomorrow we shall begin
early." Then, as if from an afterthought, she looked back and added,
"There are some new novels in my sitting-room. You might care to look
over them."

When she had gone, I went upstairs to the sitting-room and turned over
the books, but I couldn't, to save my life, force an interest in printed
romances after meeting Mrs. Vanderbridge and remembering the mystery
that surrounded her. I wondered if "the Other One," as Hopkins called
her, lived in the house, and I was still wondering this when the maid
came in and began putting the table to rights.

"Do they dine out often?" I asked.

"They used to, but since Mr. Vanderbridge hasn't been so well, Mrs.
Vanderbridge doesn't like to go without him. She only went tonight
because he begged her to."

She had barely finished speaking when the door opened, and Mr.
Vanderbridge came in and sat down in one of the big velvet chairs before
the wood fire. He had not noticed us, for one of his moods was upon him,
and I was about to slip out as noiselessly as I could when I saw that
the Other One was standing in the patch of firelight on the hearth rug.
I had not seen her come in, and Hopkins evidently was still unaware of
her presence, for while I was watching, I saw the maid turn towards her
with a fresh log for the fire. At the moment it occurred to me that
Hopkins must be either blind or drunk, for without hesitating in her
advance, she moved on the stranger, holding the huge hickory log out in
front of her. Then, b