But the key gave Matilda the lie direct by slipping into the lock. The two women clung to one another, knowing that the end had come, wondering who was to be their exposer. The bolt clicked back, the door swung open, and—
And into the dusky room there tottered a rather tall, heavily veiled, feminine figure. It did not gaze at the shrinking couple in astoundment. It did not launch into exclamation at its discovery. Instead, it sank weakly down into the nearest chair.
"Oh!" it moaned. "Oh! Oh! Oh!"
"Who—who are you?" huskily demanded Mrs. De Peyster.
"Oh! Oh!" moaned the figure. "Isn't it terrible! Isn't it terrible! But I didn't mean to do it—I didn't mean to do it, Caroline!"
"It's not—not Olivetta?" gasped Mrs. De Peyster.
"It was an accident!" the figure wailed on. "I couldn't help myself. And if you knew what I've gone through to get here, I know you'd forgive me."
Mrs. De Peyster had lifted the veil up over the hat.
"Olivetta! Then—after all—you're not dead!"