And at times like this the old, jealous pain and envy of the innocent young sister who had come so fatally between her and happiness ached in her heart almost to frenzy, although she had learned cunning in its expression. Many a time she shut her crimson lips tight over the burning words of passion, but the close-kept fire only smoldered more hotly in her heart, waiting for the slightest breath to stir it into destructive flame. And suddenly the day and the hour came when, maddened by jealous love, she was ready to palter with temptation as terrible as that which had once before breathed its poison breath upon her soul. It was at a masquerade ball given by the wife of a cabinet official that Ethel's hovering fate found her out. A strange freak of fancy had made the beautiful brunette choose the garb of a nun for the gay pageant of the night. Precious had chosen quite a different costume, but she had concealed from all but her mother and Ethel the character she chose to personate. She had all the _debutante's_ curiosity to find if any one would detect her identity behind her mask. Within an hour after they reached the ball Ethel saw Lord Chester in his character of King Arthur of Ye Table Round in close converse with a masked princess whom she knew as Precious. The pair were sitting a little apart from the crowd in a secluded flowery alcove, and the thought instantly rushed over Ethel that her sister had played her false, and confided to her lover the secret of her mask. "It is a cunning trick to enjoy each other's society," she muttered angrily, and her heart leaped to suffocation under the plain gray serge gown with its long, straight folds, and the rosary hanging down by her side. She was standing alone for a moment in the conservatory door, and the low, muttered words reached the ears of a knight just behind her who had hovered unobserved for some time in her vicinity. At her angry heart-cry and the heavy sigh that breathed over her lips, the knight's eyes flashed beneath his mask, while his lips curled in a diabolical smile. Moving close to her ear he whispered gallantly: "Clouds often hide the stars, but the white cap of the nun cannot obscure the brilliancy of Miss Winans, the star of Lord Chester's heart." Was there a sneer in the low voice? Ethel looked around with a start, and there was the knight at her elbow, with a form and voice that seemed entirely strange. Yet he had recognized her instantly, so he must be one of her friends. But before she could speak he continued: "Yet your choice of a costume surprises me. Miss Winans is not one to wear a penitential mood or garb. She is of the earth earthy, and must feel her heart thrill with jealous rage beneath even the sacred garb of the nun." "Who are you that can know Miss Winans so well?" she asked, with blended anger and surprise, and his low-breathed answer was startling: "I am one on whose fiat hangs the future of Miss Winans for good or ill!"