The General gave her a grave and friendly attention. Few men had done sterner or more daring feats in the field. Yet here he sat, relaxed, courteous, kind, trusting his companions simply, as it was his instinct to trust all women. Julie's heart beat fast. What an exciting, what an important evening!... Suddenly there was a voice in her ear. "Do you know, I think we ought to clear out. It must be close on midnight." She looked up, startled, to see Jacob Delafield. His expression--of doubt or discomfort--recalled her at once to the realities of her own situation. But before she could reply, a sound struck on her ear. She sprang to her feet. "What was that?" she said. A voice was heard in the hall. Julie Le Breton caught the chair behind her, and Delafield saw her turn pale. But before she or he could speak again, the door of the library was thrown open. "Good Heavens!" said Montresor, springing to his feet. "Lady Henry!" * * * * * M. du Bartas lifted astonished eyes. On the threshold of the room stood an old lady, leaning heavily on two sticks. She was deathly pale, and her fierce eyes blazed upon the scene before her. Within the bright, fire-lit room the social comedy was being played at its best; but here surely was Tragedy--or Fate. Who was she? What did it mean? The Duchess rushed to her, and fell, of course, upon the one thing she should not have said. "Oh, Aunt Flora, dear Aunt Flora! But we thought you were too ill to come down!" "So I perceive," said Lady Henry, putting her aside. "So you, and this lady"--she pointed a shaking finger at Julie--"have held my reception for me. I am enormously obliged. You have also"--she looked at the coffee-cups--"provided my guests with refreshment. I thank you. I trust my servants have given you satisfaction. "Gentlemen"--she turned to the rest of the company, who stood stupefied--"I fear I cannot ask you to remain with me longer. The hour is late, and I am--as you see--indisposed. But I trust, on some future occasion, I may have the honor--" She looked round upon them, challenging and defying them all. Montresor went up to her. "My dear old friend, let me introduce to you M. du Bartas, of the French Foreign Office." At this appeal to her English hospitality and her social chivalry, Lady Henry looked grimly at the Frenchman. "M. du Bartas, I am charmed to make your acquaintance. With your leave, I will pursue it when I am better able to profit by it. To-morrow I will write to you to propose another meeting--should my health allow." "Enchanté, madame," murmured the Frenchman, more embarrassed than he had ever been in his life. "Permettez--moi de vous faire mes plus sincères excuses." "Not at all, monsieur, you owe me none." Montresor again approached her. "Let me tell you," he said, imploringly, "how this has happened--how innocent we all are--"