The Angel of Terror

good society from society which is not quite as good, that the members of either set thought she was in the other. She had

in the season, and disappeared from the metropolis when it was the correct thing to disappear, a season of

p with James Meredith. Mrs. Cole-Mortimer's invitation she had welcomed. She needed some distraction, something which w

g, and when she had recovered from the shock of possessing such a large

affairs and settling the debts which had worried her for three years was so

call. She had expected to find a crowd at the house in Hyde Park Crescent, and she was

omething. It would be ungallant to say how much that "somethi

ure, "I am glad you were able to come. You

an she had seen in the stalls the night bef

ney, I don't thi

y, but he was just a little too "new" to please her. She did not like fashion-plate men, and although the most capt

ed her name. Then in a flash she recalled the suspicions of Jack Glover, which she had covered with ridicule. The association made her

rgaret?" she said, addressing the twittering host

ear father, it was not remarkable that I should know the whol

most forgotten, and probably Jack Glover had forgotten t

tion merely consolidated her earlier judgment. She smiled inwardly as she remembered Jack Glover's ridiculous warnin

ow that you're very ri

lised it yet,"

nod

so heavily paternal! They feel that they and they only are qualified to direct your life and your actions. I suppose it is second nature with them. Then, of course, they make an awful lot

rosity of this girl whom

," she said, "although, of c

twitched wit

t waiting for a reply: "I sometimes think poor Jack is just a little-well, I wouldn't say mad, but a little quee

aughed Lydia, and Jean

t imagine anybody hating you, Lydia. M

would," said

e, Jack wouldn't hate you because you're his client-a very rich and attractive clien

of the embarrassment she

rnings against me and against other possible enemies will furnish a very exc

hook he

," she said, giving smile for smile. "He

as even, the note of in

d the fact that he hasn't the use of his right arm, and limps with his left leg, and

wonder where I've heard that

s I ought to have some sort of man sleeping

ing. Less boring was Briggerland, for he had a fund of stories and experiences to

d Miss Briggerland, and she felt that the

etter perspective. The mercenary part of it made her just a little sick. There was something so mysteri

ith a patent lighter. Hyde Park Crescent was deserted save for a man who stood near the railings

idewalk, and Mr. Brigge

eur promised to be here at four o'clo

make her excuses for she wanted to go home alone. The car was coming too, at a tremendous pace. She watched it as it came furiously toward

dashed upon her. It seemed that nothing could save her,

against the railings, as the car flashed past, the mud-guard missing her by an inch. The mach

ng had happened. I think my chauffeur must be

olemn eyes of a bent old man, whose pointed, white beard and bristling white eyebrows gave him a hawk-lik

raucously, "name of Jaggs! A