had left his rooms at one o'clock--in ample time to meet her at the
restaurant....

No, he had never intended to come; he had wearied; yet, patient with her,
true to the ethics of a gentleman, he had been content to let her go,
rather than to send a detective to take his place....

And this was something, by the way, to cause her to revise her theory as to
the manner in which Anisty had managed to steal the jewels. If Maitland
had gone abroad at one, and without intending to keep his engagement at
Eugene's, then he must have been despoiled before that hour, and without
his knowledge. Surely, if the jewels had been taken from him with his
cognizance, the hue and cry would have been out and Anisty would not have
dared to linger so long in the neighborhood!

To be just with herself, the girl had not gone to the restaurant with much
real hope of finding Maitland there. Curiosity had drawn her,--just to see
if.... But it was too preposterous to credit, that he should have cared
enough.... Quite too preposterous! It was her cup, her bitter cup, to know
that _she_ had learned to care enough--at sight!... And she recalled (with
what pangs of shame and misery begged expression!) how her heart had been
stirred when she had found him (as she thought) true to his tryst: even as
she recalled the agony and distress of mind with which she had a moment
later fathomed Anisty's impersonation.

For, of course, she had known that Maitland was Maitland and none other,
from the instant when he told her to make good her escape and leave him to
brazen it out: a task to daunt even as bold and resourceful a criminal as
Anisty, and more especially if he were called upon to don the mask at a
minute's notice, as Maitland had pretended to. Or, if she had not actually