Then what did Lenore do? She walked deliberately to Lord Charles' coat, dropped her bracelet on it, stooped, picked up the bracelet, and abstracted the letter, and concealing the latter in her sunshade, glided toward the house. With fast beating heart she gained her own room and locked the door. Then she drew the letter from her sunshade and eyed it as a thief might eye a safe in which lay the treasure he coveted. Then she rang the bell and ordered some hot water. "I have sprained my wrist," she said, in explanation, "and I want the water very hot." The maid brought the water and offered to bathe the wrist, but Lady Lenore sent her away, and locked the door again. Then she held the envelope over the steaming jug and watched the paper part. Even then she hesitated, even as the note lay open to her. This which she contemplated doing was the meanest act a mortal could be guilty of, and hitherto she had scorned all baseness and meanness. But love is stronger than a sense of right and wrong in some women, and it overcame her scruples. With a sudden compression of the lips she drew out the note and read it, and as she read it her face paled. Every word of endearment stabbed her straight to the heart, and made her writhe. "My darling!" she murmured; "my darling! How he must love her!" and for a moment she sat with the letter in her hand overcome by jealousy and misery. Then, with a start, she roused herself. Let come what might, the thing should not happen. This girl should not be Leycester's wife. But how to prevent it? She sat and thought as the precious moments ticked themselves out into eternity, and suddenly she remembered Jasper Adelstone--remembered him with a scornful contempt, but still remembered him. "Any port in a storm," she said; "a drowning man clings to a straw, and he is no straw." Then she inclosed the letter in its envelope, and taking out the writing-case wrote on a scented sheet of paper: "Meet me by the weir at eight o'clock." This she inclosed in an envelope, and addressed to Jasper Adelstone, Esq., and with the two notes in her hand returned to the tennis lawn. They were still playing--Lord Charles absorbed in the game, and once more quite oblivious of the letter. She stood and watched them for a minute; then she went and sank down beside the jacket, and hiding the movements with her sunshade, restored Leycester's letter to its place. A few minutes afterward the single line she had written was on its way to Jasper. CHAPTER XXV. "I am Frank Etheridge," said Frank, looking up at Lord Charles, as the latter stopped at the little gate in the lane. "Yes, I am Frank Etheridge." And as he repeated the sentence, a shy, almost a timid, apprehensive expression came into his eyes. "All right," said Lord Charles, looking round with a most inconsistent look of caution on his frank, handsome face. "Then I have a letter for you." "For me!" said Frank, and his face paled. Lord Charles eyed him with astonishment.