the chauffeur, descending from his seat, came to her assistance.

"Wait," she said in a strangled voice. "Wait; I may want you."

At the door of her apartment she had to pause, before she rang, to
gather courage, to obtain control of her whirling brain. At last the
ornate door swung inward and her butler faced her with welcoming eye.

"Mrs. Marteen! Pray pardon the undress livery! No word had been
received."

She took note of the darkened rooms. Only one switch, whose glow she had
seen turned on as the servant came to the door, gave light. The place
was hollow and unlived in as an outworn shell.

"Miss Dorothy?" she said, striving to give her voice a natural tone.

The butler h'mmed. "Miss Dorothy has gone, Madam, with Madam's
sister--since yesterday. They left no address, and said nothing about
when they might be expected. Mr. Gard had been with Miss Dorothy in the
afternoon."

Mrs. Marteen caught hold of the broad and solid back of a carved hall
chair and stood motionless, leaning her full weight on its ancient oak
for support.

"That's all right, Stevens," she said at length. "You needn't notify the
other servants that I have returned--for the present. I'm going right
out again. I just stopped in for some important papers I may have need
of. Just light the hall and the library, will you?"