trailed off into a semi-conscious murmur and ceased. The beautiful eyes,
dilated with horror, devoured the open page.

Olga contemplated her for a moment, then went to the bedside. "Violet,
do put down that hateful book! How can you read such disgusting things?
Violet!" as her remonstrance elicited no response, "do get up and let us
pack your things! Dr. Wyndham is downstairs."

"What?" Violet looked at her this time, but with a mazed expression as
of one half-asleep. "Who? The great Objectionable himself? How did you
inveigle him here? By nothing short of witchcraft, I will swear. Those
pale eyes of yours are rather witch-like, do you know? Did you fly over
on a broomstick to fetch him? And why?"

Olga possessed herself of the book, and shut it with decision. "I came
upon him at Redlands, and as he has got the car with him, we may as well
go back in it. He said he was coming here in any case."

"Really, dear? I wonder why." Violet made a futile effort to recapture
her book. "You might let me have it. I must know what became of those
unlucky girls when the convent was taken. They mutilated most of the
nuns with their scimitars. But the pupils--Allegro, let me have it,
dear! I shan't sleep a wink to-night till I know the worst."

"You won't sleep if you do," said Olga magisterially.

"You shan't read any more. It's a disgusting, filthy book and you
shan't have it. Get up and dress, and don't be horrid!"

"Horrid!" Violet broke into a gay laugh and the strained look passed in