Leslie could not suppress a smile when she saw the multitude of papers that bestrewed the bed and floor, and before she could speak, the elder woman went on, between sips of her claret cup, to say: "Oh, the disgrace of these failures! The terrible charges that are made! I simply cannot stand it! A mere girl, like you, cannot appreciate the strain of this thing on my nerves. And everybody thinks of nothing but the strain on Peter; no one considers poor me----" "Oh, but you must not take it so to heart," said the girl with well-feigned sympathy. "Everybody is failing now." "But I have looked these papers through and through," Mrs. Peter V. went on, "and nowhere, nowhere have I been considered at all. Why, not one paper has even mentioned my name to-day. For a month not one of them has published a picture of me; yet they are full of pictures of Peter V., this house, and of the Tri-State Trust Company offices. It makes me sick--nobody thinks of me." At this moment the footman knocked at the door. Leslie stepped forward and took the papers that he passed in, tossing them lightly on the bed. "Oh! Oh!" wailed Mrs. Peter V. as her eye rested on the headlines. "The Tri-State has gone up! This is the end--the end of everything! Here, Leslie, you take this paper, and I'll take that--we'll see whether there isn't something in them about me." * * * * * On the floor below, no sooner had Leslie left the Den than there was a rustle behind the heavy curtains, in that room, and presently they were parted, and then, with a stealthy movement a woman stepped forth into the middle of the room. Madeline Braine looked carefully about her, listened for an instant, and then advanced still further toward the door. Her attitude was watchfulness itself. "His daughter Elinor, a girl who needs protection!" she cried, with an agitation born of fresh events, and then a half-sob broke from her lips. "There are other girls who should have had care just as much--and haven't had it." She glanced at her watch and started forward once again. "I can't wait!" she cried. "Why isn't Peter Wilkinson here?" For a moment it occurred to her to cross the hall to the reception-room, and from there to summon a servant and give him a message. She had had her own reasons, in the first instance, for darting into Wilkinson's Den to hide. She well knew that her agreement with Wilkinson forbade her to cross his threshold; but she intended to make a crisis in her affairs as an excuse to him, and quite naturally decided that there would be much less danger in the Den of her being discovered by others than in the reception-room. Now, there were reasons why she must not be found within this room: the interview between Ilingsworth and Leslie Wilkinson made it impossible. And she started to leave, but suddenly drew back.