"Nonsense!" he said. "Here's the key."

He laid it on the dressing table, and she was about to take it up to

replace it in her purse, and put the purse in one of the small drawers

of the dressing table, when there came a knock at the door, and Burden

entered.

"I--I beg your ladyship's pardon," she faltered, drawing back.

"What is it?" asked the countess.

"I wanted to borrow some eau de Cologne for my lady," said Burden. "I

thought your ladyship had gone down, or I wouldn't----"

"Give her the eau de Cologne," said the countess to her maid. "Please

ask Lady Luce to keep it. I shall not want it."

Burden took the bottle and went out. On the other side of the door she

paused a moment and caught her breath. Chance, or the devil himself, was

working on Ted's behalf, for she had happened to enter the room at the

very moment the countess had put the key in the purse, and the purse in

the drawer. And all day Burden had been wondering how she should get

that key.

She went on after a moment or two, and Lady Luce looked up from her

chair in front of the dressing table, as Burden entered.

"Where have you been?" she asked sharply.

"I went to borrow some eau de Cologne, my lady," replied Burden.

"Well, please be quick; you know we are late. I will wear----" she

paused a moment. She wanted to look her best that night. The beauty

which had caught Drake in the past, the beauty which was to ensnare him

again, and win for her the Angleford coronet, must lack no advantage

dress could lend it. "The silver gray and the pearls, please," she

said, after a moment or two of consideration. "Why, what is the matter

with you?" she asked sharply, as she saw the reflection of Burden's face

in the glass. "Are you ill, or what?"

Burden tried to force the color to her face and keep her hands steady.

"I--I am not very well, my lady," she faltered. "I--I have had bad

news."

"Bad news! What news?" asked Lady Luce coldly.

"My--mother is very ill, my lady," replied Burden, on the spur of the

moment.

Lady Luce moved impatiently.

"It is a singular thing that persons of your class are always in some

trouble or other; you are either ill yourselves, or some of your

relations are dying. I am very sorry and all that, Burden, but I hope

you were not thinking of asking me to let you go home, because I really

could not just now."




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