At this moment a servant entered the room with a magnificent bouquet of white lilies, which he presented to his mistress, and then retired. She held them in her hands, inhaling their faint perfume, and admiring the stainless purity of their deep cups; then, catching sight of a card thrust into the centre of the flowers, she took it out to read the name. "Sir Guy Errington." With a low laugh of triumph she tossed the flowers on the table, and, with the card still in her hand, swept across the room to a desk of rosewood near the window. Sitting down she wrote a note to Major Griff: "DEAR MAJOR, "Kindly bring with you to-morrow your cheque for £200. He has come back. "MARAQUITA VEILSTURM." Placing this in an envelope, she directed it to Major Griff, at the Globetrotters' Club, then ringing the bell, gave it to the servant, with instructions that it was to be delivered at once. When she was once more alone, she picked up Sir Guy's card, and smiled cruelly as she looked at the name. "You fool," she whispered softly. "Oh, you fool." CHAPTER XXXI. IN THE COILS OF THE SERPENT. "By the magic of thine eyes Thou hast drawn me to the brake, As thy victim slowly dies, Hiss in triumph, cruel snake. Strangled now I gasp for breath, Thus ensnared within thy toils, I can only wait for death, Helpless in thy shining coils." Mrs. Veilsturm was a lady who once having learnt a lesson from experience, never needed to go to that unpleasant school a second time. She saw plainly that her first tactics with regard to Errington had been entirely wrong, as it was a mistake to treat such a non-appreciative person with kindness. Therefore, when he returned to her for a second time, she behaved towards him with cold disdain, which had the effect of making him simply furious, as it resembled the way in which he had been treated by his wife. Instead of taking offence, however, and leaving his capricious divinity in disgust, he followed her everywhere, resolved with dogged perseverance to force her to revert to her earlier demeanour. Wherever Cleopatra went, Errington was to be seen in attendance, and at balls, theatres, garden-parties, the Park, Hurlingham, his haggard-looking face appeared ever beside her. All the world of London, seeing Mrs. Veilsturm's change of front, thought that she was tired of her last fancy, and began to pity her for the persistent manner in which she was followed by her discarded lover. When questioned on the subject, she simply laughed, and talked pathetically about being a lonely widow, so that everyone said that she had been badly treated in being suspected of favouring Errington in any way.