With breathless curiosity she touched the spring, and it flew open, revealing the face of Lord Dunforth. “Who can it be, mamma?” asked Isabel, with wonder-wide eyes. “I do not know; no one who belongs to Miss Douglas, I fancy, from his looks. How strangely he is dressed—like some court gentleman.” “And what is this?” said Isabel, taking up the card that lay beneath. Then she cried out. “Why, mamma, it is a dancing list, and look! here are the names of counts and lords! Do you believe now that Miss Douglas ever came by these things honestly?” she demanded, in tones of triumph. “No, Isabel, I do not,” returned her mother, with firmset lips; “and I shall inquire into it immediately on her return.” “What could a young girl eighteen years old—a poor girl without a penny, too, and who had never been out of her own country before, know of lords and counts?” The idea was absurd. There was a mystery about the whole thing, a tantalizing mystery, which both women were eager to solve. Evidently Miss Douglas had seen better days, they reasoned, or she could never have received the excellent education she possessed; but then any enterprising person in moderate circumstances could acquire that under the training of the first-class schools which are found in most of the larger cities of the United States. While these thoughts were passing through the mind of Mrs. Coolidge, she heard the hall door open and close, and Brownie’s voice in cheerful conversation with Wilbur. He had joined her by accident (?) while she was walking, and had made himself so entertaining and agreeable that the clouds upon her face had all been driven away. She tripped gayly upstairs, wholly unconscious of the thunderbolt awaiting her. Isabel confronted her as she reached the top stairs. “Mamma would like to see you in her dressing-room immediately, Miss Douglas,” she said, haughtily. She colored at the tone and manner, but, wholly unconscious of any coming evil, she obeyed the summons as soon as she had removed her hat and jacket. She found Mrs. Coolidge sitting cold and dignified in her armchair. “Be seated, Miss Douglas,” she said, solemnly. “I wish to speak to you upon a matter of importance.” Brownie sat down, her clear eyes wide with wonder at her reception. There was a moment’s awkward silence, the lady of the house hardly knowing how to commence. “Ahem!” she began, shifting her glance from the clear, innocent eyes, which she had thought must have fallen before her accusing look. “Ahem! Miss Douglas, I have sent for you to ask what may seem a strange question; nevertheless, I feel it to be a duty to myself and family to ask it.” Brownie’s fair face began to change color again. Mrs. Coolidge noticed it, and her assurance was restored. “I, of course, expect you to give me a straightforward reply,” she added, impressively.