"Too bad you could not have been here oftener. This has been an unusually brilliant season. Really, many of the young people have lost their heads—or their hearts. I often wonder if these midshipmen have sweethearts at home." This daring—and impertinent—remark was made musingly but smilingly.
"These Annapolis affairs are never very serious, I imagine," Belle observed calmly.
"On the contrary, most of the Navy marriages date back to an Annapolis first meeting."
"Then you think it well to come often?"
"Unless one has other ways of keeping in touch," was the brazen reply.
"I have," said Belle sweetly. "I receive a good many souvenirs in the course of a year. One last winter was a photograph." With the words Belle gazed intently into Miss Stevens' eyes. Then she went on: "There was an anonymous message written on it. It was a lying message, of course, as anonymous messages always are, written in a coarse hand. Did you ever study handwriting, Miss Stevens?"
Marian gasped, realizing she was out-maneuvered.
"This writing had all the characteristics of a woman whose instincts are coarse, that of a treacherous though not dangerous person—"
"Here's Mr. Sanderson back. Will you excuse me, Miss Meade?" and Marian fairly fled.
Belle told Dave she had found out who had sent the photograph, but added: