Rapidly retracing her steps, she passed back into the street and around the block to the front of the church. To her joy she encountered no one. The Deacon was so sure of his triumph he had withdrawn his detectives from the street and had them massed as witnesses in the Sunday-school room. He was sure they would emerge by that way, for it was Gordon's usual way of exit, and the choir was still singing in the church. With feverish haste she applied the key to the spring lock of the door for the members' entrance and passed noiselessly down the aisle in the shadows under the gallery, unobserved by the choir. Only the lights about the organ were burning. When she reached the door of the study she paused. What if she found him with his arms about her and his lips on hers? Could she control herself? Would she not spring on the woman, with all the tiger of her hot Southern blood from centuries of proud ancestry tingling in her tapering fingers, and tear those blue eyes from her head? She must be sure. No; it was over now. She had conquered self. She would save him. Slipping the key softly into the lock, she entered and stood a moment, her stormy eyes burning a deep, steady fire. They were studying a map of the city with eager interest in the location of the Temple and did not see or hear her. As she saw them thus, a sense of gratitude soothed her excitement and gave perfect control of her voice. "Frank," she said quietly. "Ruth!" he exclaimed in amazement, striding toward her, while Kate blushed and, with dilated eyes, stared at her, dumb with fear of a scene of violence. "Yes," she continued in even, rapid tones, "I have come, in love, not anger, to save you both from shame and disgrace. That room behind you is full of detectives and reporters. They are waiting for the choir to leave to find you here alone. They sent for me to give a fitting climax to the scene. They have your photograph already, Miss Ransom, and the reporter is preparing his article on the hidden Priestess of the new Temple." "Oh, I thank you!" Kate cried, trembling. "Keep your thanks. I do this from no regard for you. Frankly, I hate you--hate and envy yoi your terrible beauty that has robbed me of that which I hold dearer than life." "But I do not hate you, Mrs. Gordon. I have for you only the kindliest feelings," Kate protested. "I prefer your hatred. But we have no time for talk." Ruth quickly removed her hat and cloak and handed them to Kate. "Exchange with me and pass quickly out of the church by the little front door. Keep under the shadows of the gallery and the choir cannot see you." In a moment it was done, and Gordon faced his wife alone. "My dear, that was a beautiful deed you have just done." "Don't say 'my dear' to me again until we have come to an understanding of this meeting," his wife said, closing her lips firmly. "As you will," he gravely answered. "When we are at home to-night alone I will hear your explanation."