She would sell the chain flung to her at the Carnival.

It was certainly hers, and quite as certainly she would never wear the thing. She remembered the high price of that she had seen at Spink's. This one appeared to be quite as good, the pearls of quite as excellent colour and lustre, the diamonds the same. It ought to fetch something substantial.

With this comfortable thought she folded her letter and went to bed, and slept till morning blushed (as it did at the proper time in vivid crimson), while the poor suspected woman in the next room tossed upon an uneasy pillow, and racked her brains in vain, feverish efforts to find some way of turning the sapphires into money, until youth and nature conquered, and she too sank into blissful forgetfulness.

Ermengarde found it useless to take the thin man into her confidence with regard to the woman of mystery; his mind on that subject seemed to be of impenetrable brass. Had Mr. Welbourne observed this or that singular proceeding on the part of Miss Somers? drew from him a look of blank stupidity, a brazen want of comprehension, or some remark to the effect that Miss Somers was a young lady of singular charm; that she possessed intelligence of a high order, was remarkably well-informed, a most restful companion, with unusual conversational powers, enhanced by the still more unusual faculty of knowing when to be silent; that her beauty was of a very distinguished order, the marble whiteness of her complexion having the quality of morbidezza, and being due to an exceptionally fine and clear skin, rather than to ill-health.

"In short, my dear creature," Ermengarde reflected, "you think her far too good-looking to be criticized, much less suspected."

She remembered that the thin man was a bachelor, and not so very old, probably not much more than forty, the age of most acute susceptibility to feminine attraction. In the sight of men of that age, beauty can do no wrong. Yet the thin man honestly detested poor Miss Boundrish; he had been known to flee as if for life, and hide behind trees, rocks, trellises, and folding screens, even on one occasion behind an upright piano, where by mischance he was imprisoned for two solid hours, in trying to escape the society of that coral-lipped, dewy-eyed sylph.

But the woman of mystery had known how to tame that wild and shy bachelor heart to her hand. Perhaps she would make him sell the sapphires.

"Supposing," Ermengarde asked Mr. Welbourne, the day after her refusal to oblige Agatha by that small service, conscience having given her some uncomfortable qualms on that account—"supposing some one were to ask you to sell extremely valuable jewels for them, on the ground that they did not wish to be seen selling diamonds, would you do it?"

"Why not? If it were a lady, of course I would," he said promptly, reflecting that he was in for it, and could make better bargains than she, and hoping that parting with her jewels would be a lesson to Mrs. Allonby on the folly of gambling.

"But supposing you were another lady?"