The risk I run is nothing to yours. You think you love this other man! No doubt you do love him. . ” She glanced shyly at the mirror above her dressing-table, and then about her at the furniture, as though it might penetrate to the thoughts that peeped in her mind. “Just like old times,” she thought sardonically. She leaves town to-morrow. . Accompanied by Sir Cecil, who still continued passionately enamoured of his sister, and to whom he represented that she had fallen a victim to the arts of a seducer, he set off, at fiery speed, for the metropolis. “MY DEAR VERONICA,—Your aunt tells me you have involved yourself in some arrangement with the Widgett girls about a Fancy Dress Ball in London. She calls us her guests, but in reality we are her prisoners.
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