"Eustace and some of his friends are coming later; so, my dear, you must let me run upstairs at once and change this damp gown for something more comfortable and becoming. When you see who is with Eustace, you will understand why I want to look so charming. My maid has my bag in the kitchen. Come." Another menace! Would she never be free from discovery, Joscelyn wondered. And taking her friend by the shoulders, she pushed her playfully into the parlour. "'Tis easy enough to guess who is coming, by the happiness in your eyes. But there, go make your duty to mother while I have a fire kindled in my room; then shall you make yourself as beautiful as a dream ere it runs to a nightmare." Upstairs she raced, stopping in the hall only long enough to unlock the attic door. In her room was a slight noise; and she was about to call Richard softly, when by the fireplace she perceived the maid blowing the coals into a blaze. "That will do, Peggy. Go down at once and get a pair of your dry shoes for Mistress Singleton's maid, that she may shortly be ready to help her mistress dress." Peggy obeyed; and then Joscelyn heard her name called, and saw the curtains of the bed-tester shaken as by some one standing behind them, and Richard's head and shoulders came to view. Answering the look in his eloquent eyes, she put out her hand with a quick impulse to meet his; but at that moment the door was flung open, and Mary rushed in. "They have come already, and 'tis as much as my chances with Edward Moore are worth to have him see me in this garb; so I fled for my life," she cried, laughing and panting together. Joscelyn dared not look toward the bed curtain; surely, the fates had combined against her! She stood quite still and let Mary run on with her confidences concerning young Moore, salving her conscience with the thought that a second listener could not matter when a human life was at stake. But when Mary, too intent upon the mirror to look at the bed, shook down her hair and began deliberately to unfasten her bodice, Joscelyn grew desperate. She could not permit this. "Wait until--until the fire burns, Mary," she cried, that she might gain a few minutes to think. But Mary only laughed and went on unhooking, raving about blue eyes and a tall figure; to all of which Joscelyn agreed, striving to fasten the hooks again until Mary pushed her off in a small pet. Then, with a last frantic effort, she upset, with a palpably awkward movement of her elbow, a pitcher that stood on the dresser; and as the deluge of water came down she cried to Mary to go at once to her mother's room, where was a better fire, and she would follow with her things. It was a most open bit of acting, without a shadow of plot or diplomacy; but Mary was too intent upon her love affair to notice, and so went obediently into the next room, talking still of Edward Moore. As Joscelyn gathered up some ribbons and lace from the bed, she whispered as though to the curtained post:--