“Oh!” The girl’s voice was vaguely troubled, while the other, watching, saw the blush that colored her warmly tinted cheeks.

“It is good of you to play for them,” continued the woman from Fairlands Heights, casually.  “You must enjoy the society of such famous men, very much.  There are a great many people, you know, who would envy you your friendship with them.”

The girl replied quickly, “O, but you are mistaken.  I am not acquainted with them, at all; that is—­not with Mr. King—­I have never spoken to him—­and I only met Mr. Lagrange, for a few minutes, by accident.”

“Indeed!  But I am forgetting the purpose of my call, and my friends will become impatient.  Do you ever play for private entertainments, Miss Andres?—­for—­say a dinner, or a reception, you know?”

“I would be very glad for such an engagement, Mrs. Taine.  I must earn what I can with my music, and there are not enough pupils to occupy all my time.  But perhaps you should hear me play, first.  I will get my violin.”

Mrs. Taine checked her, “Oh, no, indeed.  It is quite unnecessary, my dear.  The opinion of your distinguished neighbors is quite enough.  I shall keep you in mind for some future occasion.  I just wished to learn if you would accept such an engagement.  Good-by.  Thanks—­so much—­for your flowers.”

She was upon the point of turning away, when a low cry from the nearby porch startled them both.  Turning, they saw the woman with the disfigured face, standing in the doorway; an expression of mingled wonder, love, and supplication upon her hideously marred features.  As they looked, she started toward them,—­impulsively stretching out her arms, as though the gesture was an involuntary expression of some deep emotion,—­then checked herself, suddenly as though in doubt.

Sibyl Andres uttered an exclamation.  “Why, Myra! what is it, dear?”

Mrs. Taine turned away with a gesture of horror, saying to the girl in a low, hurried voice, “Dear me, how dreadful!  I really must be going.”

As she went down the flower-bordered path towards the street, the woman on the porch, again, stretched out her arms appealingly.  Then, as Sibyl reached her side, the poor creature clasped the girl in a close embrace, and burst into bitter tears.

* * * * *

Upon the return of the Taines and James Rutlidge to the house on Fairlands Heights, Mrs. Taine retired immediately to her own luxuriously appointed apartments.

At dinner, a maid brought to the household word that her mistress was suffering from a severe headache and would not be down and begged that she might not be disturbed during the evening.