Christmas Eve a tragical one, she turned to him with a face full of
interest and sympathy as she said, nodding toward the blackened shreds
of Octavia's dress, and the scorched tiger skin which still lay at their
feet, "That was both a fortunate and an unfortunate little affair, but I
fear Maurice's gain will be your loss. Pardon my frankness for Octavia's
sake; she is a fine creature, and I long to see her given to one worthy
of her. I am a woman to read faces quickly; I know that your suit does
not prosper as you would have it, and I desire to help you. May I?"

"Indeed you may, and command any service of me in return. But to what do
I owe this unexpected friendliness?" cried Annon, both grateful and
surprised.

"To my regard for the young lady, my wish to save her from an
unworthy man."

"Do you mean Treherne?" asked Annon, more and more amazed.

"I do. Octavia must not marry a gambler!"

"My dear lady, you labor under some mistake; Treherne is by no means a
gambler. I owe him no goodwill, but I cannot hear him slandered."

"You are generous, but I am not mistaken. Can you, on your honor, assure
me that Maurice never played?"

Mrs. Snowdon's keen eyes were on him, and he looked embarrassed for a
moment, but answered with some hesitation, "Why, no, I cannot say that,
but I can assure you that he is not an habitual gambler. All young men
of his rank play more or less, especially abroad. It is merely an