CHAPTER V.THE WOMAN IN HELIOTROPE.
The flush was still on Charley's face when the door opened slowly, and a lady dressed in heliotrope silk entered, and came forward.

Without a word Charley rose, and, taking a step towards her, offered a chair; at the same time noticing her heightened colour, and a certain rigid carriage not in keeping with her lithe and graceful figure.

There was no mistaking the quiver of her upper lip--a short lip which did not hide a wonderfully pretty set of teeth.
With a wave of the hand she declined the seat.

Glancing at the books and papers lying on the table, she flashed an inquiry at his flushed face, and, misreading the cause, with slow, quiet point, in which bitterness or contempt showed, she said meaningly: "What a slave you are!" "Behold the white man work!" he said good-naturedly, the flush passing slowly from his face.

With apparent negligence he pushed the letter and the books and papers a little to one side, but really to place them beyond the range of her angry eyes.