“I wonder where Janet can be,” she said, the coquetry dropping from her, as her anxieties returned. “Do ask Perkins if she is in the house.” Duncan drew back. “Janet? Do you think of no one but Janet?” and without waiting for an answer he walked down the hall, but before he left her, Marjorie had seen in Duncan’s eyes the message which every daughter of Eve translates by instinct. With strangely fluttering heart she sought her room and in that safe haven paused for breath. Day-dreams were not for her; she was only his mother’s paid employee, and ... one man had not scrupled to lie to her.... Over in Georgetown, Barnard, in immaculate evening dress, opera hat and overcoat, paused to light another cigarette. “So Aunt Margaret never regained consciousness,” he said aloud. “_What_ a relief!” CHAPTER XII A TANGLED WEB EARLIER that same afternoon Janet had started for Madame Yvonett’s residence intending to join Marjorie there, but as she crossed Dupont Circle into Massachusetts Avenue, an automobile drew up alongside the curb, and a cheery voice hailed her. “This is luck,” exclaimed Tom Nichols, springing out of his roadster, and clasping her hand warmly. “Where are you going Miss Janet?” “Down to see Madame Yvonett,” Janet’s piquant face dimpled into a smiling welcome. “Fine! I was just on the way to her house myself; jump in and I’ll take you there.” “All right, thanks.” Janet climbed into the motor car, and after arranging the rug over her lap, Tom took his seat behind the steering wheel, and in a second more they were off. At the corner of Scott Circle Tom slackened speed. “Suppose we go for a spin first,” he coaxed. “It’s a glorious day for a run in the country.” “But I promised to meet Marjorie----” “Well, so you can,” cutting her objection short. “If we get there by half-past five it will be time enough; Cousin Yvonett always has a late dinner. Besides, it’s always better to be late at a party, it insures a warm welcome.” “Sometimes too warm a one,” laughed Janet “What will mother say to my going motoring with you and leaving Marjorie behind?” “Oh, your mother won’t mind, I’m only Marjorie’s cousin,” carelessly. “I’m sure your physician will prescribe plenty of ozone after last night’s dance, and the air’s glorious today, do come?” Janet wavered. She was pretty certain her mother would not approve, but--it was a perfect winter’s day, clear and bracing; she was tired of a stuffy house, and then--and then she admired and liked Tom Nichols. Her warm blood pulsed a trifle faster, then ebbed more slowly. Was it disloyal to Chichester Barnard to crave the presence of another man? She put the thought from her with frowning impatience. “I can go a little distance,” she conceded. “Bully for you!” and the glance he turned on her held more than admiration. “Will you be warm enough?” “Oh, plenty,” Janet pulled the collar of her fur coat up about her ears, and snuggled back in her seat, the heavy laprobe drawn tightly in place.