TREACHERY Somewhat to Virginia's surprise, when at last she stepped with beating heart into the library, she found her uncle alone.

He was sitting in front of his open desk, a pile of papers before him, and a long, black-looking cigar between his teeth.

Scarcely glancing up, he motioned her to a seat.
"In five minutes," he said, "I shall want to talk to you." She sat down in one of the chairs, now vacant, which had been drawn up to the study table.

The air of the room was heavy with tobacco smoke, and there were empty liqueur glasses upon the sideboard.

Yet Virginia somehow felt that it was not only to take their after-dinner coffee, and enjoy a chat over their cigars, that these men had met together around the table before which she was sitting.