"I--I just ran down the steps--I won't do so again." Elsie heard their voices--she always heard everything--and opened the door. "Come in here, you naughty people," she cried, laughing and speaking lightly, though there was a gleam in her eyes. "Oh! Mrs. Thompson, husbands and wives who have been separated are worse than lovers." She forced them to enter, talking in her excited way, and making everybody laugh so much that neither the frown on Mellen's brow nor his wife's paleness were observed. "You have been out," she found an opportunity to whisper to Elizabeth; "you must be mad!" "I shall be!" groaned the woman; "I shall be!" CHAPTER XXXIII. SEARCHING FOR THE BRACELET. The very sight of her sister's carelessness and gayety, made Elizabeth feel how necessary it was to be composed; her husband was watching her still. Some one asked her to play; she took her seat at the piano and played one of her most brilliant pieces--to sing, and her rich contralto voice rang out with new passion and power. I tell you even women can only marvel at the power many of the sex preserve over themselves when playing for a great stake, and the least betrayal of look or movement might be full of danger. The evening passed off without further incident, and the guests went away delighted with their reception, thinking what agreeable people the Mellens were, and how happy they must be in their beautiful home. "Oh--oh--oh!" cried Elsie, flinging up her arms with a yawn that distorted her pretty mouth out of all proportion. "Thank heaven, they are gone! I am sure another half hour would have killed me." "You deceitful little thing!" said her brother, who had nearly recovered his cheerfulness. "I heard you tell poor young Thompson that you had never enjoyed yourself so thoroughly." "Of course I did; what else could I say." Mr. Mellen laughed and went out of the room. Elsie was standing by the fire, she was always complaining of cold, and Elizabeth walked towards her as the door closed. "Don't!" whispered Elsie, "you are going to talk--don't!" Elizabeth dropped into a seat with a wearied look, such as a person wears after hours of self-restraint. "It's of no use to talk," said Elsie, with an impatient gesture. "You ought not to have gone out----" "I know; but I dared not wait. Oh, Elsie! such a scene----" "Be still!" exclaimed Elsie, with the old passion which seemed so foreign to her nature. "I can't hear--I won't! Grantley saw you!" "Yes; he was in the hall when I entered," she replied, with the same dreary despair in her voice. "I know, I feel that something will happen at last." "There must not--there shall not!" broke in Elsie. "Such madness--such greedy selfishness----" "Don't tell me," shivered Elsie; "please don't!" Elizabeth dropped her hands into her lap with a gesture full of weariness and desolation; as they fell apart she lifted them up to Elsie, with a look of helpless distress. "What is it?" cried Elsie. "Don't frighten me!"