Cruel As The Grave

"All right!" exclaimed Trix, delighted with the plan.

"And there is one more caution I must give you. Keep out of the way of

my husband. He knows my character of Fire Queen, and if he should see

you near him in that dress, he would be sure to speak to you for me; and

if you should attempt to reply, no matter how well you might imitate my

voice, your speech would certainly betray you."

"All right! I will keep away from your husband, if I can; but how shall

I know him?"

"He is dressed as Harold the last of the Saxon Kings!"

"Oh! is that Mr. Berners? And I never suspected it! I thought that

was some single man, desperately smitten with the charms of Edith the

Fair," continued Beatrix.

"Oh, yes, I dare say you thought, but you were mistaken. Edith the Fair

is our guest, Mrs. Blondelle. And she took the character of Edith to

support Mr. Berners in Harold, and to be true to these characters they

must act as they do; for Harold and Edith were lovers in history,"

explained Sybil, speaking calmly, though every word uttered by her

companion had seemed like a separate stab to her already deeply wounded

bosom.

"'Lovers in history' were they? I should take them to be lovers in

mystery now, if I did not know them to be Mr. Berners and Mrs.

Blondelle," persisted Beatrix, all unconscious of the blows she was

raining upon Sybil's overburdened heart. "However," she added, "I shall

keep out of the way of both, for if he knew your disguise, be sure

that she knew it also; and of course both, in daily intercourse with

you, know your voice equally well. And if either of them should take me

for you and speak to me for you, and I should attempt to reply, I should

be sure to betray myself. So I will keep away from both, if I can. If

not, if they should come suddenly upon me and speak to me, I shall not

answer, but shall turn around and walk silently away as if I were

offended with them."

"Yes, do that; that will be excellent," assented Sybil.

"And now, how are you going to support my character, or rather my

disguise?" inquired Beatrix.

"By being very silent and demure as Janet Foster; or, if need should be,

by carrying on your mood of sullenness as Beatrix Pendleton, masked."

"That will do," agreed Beatrix, with a smile.

All the while they had been speaking, they had also been taking off

their fancy dresses. No time was lost, and the exchange of costume was

quickly effected.

"Now," said Sybil, "another favor."

"Name it."

"Let me go down first. Then do you wait ten minutes here before you

follow me. And when you enter the room keep away from me, as well as

from my husband and my guest."