She had broken the ice of propriety in which her past life had been congealed and an insidious pleasure now thrilled her quickened veins, as she felt herself possessed of a secret, one linking her to an attractive member of the dangerous sex, and a hero of romance, a very Don Juan in seductive softness.

Her knees trembled at a sudden summons to report to the Master of the marble house, forthwith.
Her bosom heaved with a vague alarm as she timidly descended the grand stair, and was conducted to the private snuggery of the Commissioner adjoining his own apartments.

"Does he know aught of the meeting ?" she questioned herself, in the throes of a sudden fright.

She was somewhat reassured as she observed the carriage drawn up in the compound and, by hazard, caught a glance of Alan Hawke's graceful martial figure, as he stood regarding her intently from the safe shelter of the darkened reception-room.

Her heart bounded with delight as her Prince Charming smilingly placed his finger on his lip.
A sense of manly protection, never felt before, gave her the strength of ten as she then glided along boldly to face her gray-headed master.