[Illustration]

 THE SILVER BUTTERFLY

 By MRS. WILSON WOODROW

 With Illustrations by HOWARD CHANDLER CHRISTY

 INDIANAPOLIS THE BOBBS-MERRILL COMPANY PUBLISHERS

 Copyright 1908 The Bobbs-Merrill Company October

 PRESS OF BRAUNWORTH & CO. BOOKBINDERS AND PRINTERS BROOKLYN, N. Y. 

CHAPTER I

Hayden was back in New York again after several years spent in theuttermost parts of the earth. He had been building railroads in SouthAmerica, Africa, and China, and had maintained so many lodges in thisor that wilderness that he really feared he might be curiouslyawkward in adapting himself to the conventional requirements ofcivilization. In his long roundabout journey home he had stopped fora few weeks in both London and Paris; but to his mental discomfort, they had but served to accentuate his loneliness and whet hislongings for the dear, unforgotten life of his native city, thatintimate, easy existence, wherein relatives, not too near, congenialfriends and familiar haunts played so important a part. 

On the journey from London he had felt like a boy going home for themost delightful holidays after a long period in school, and to calmand render more normal his elation, he told himself frequently as hedrew nearer his native shores that he was letting himself in for aterrible disappointment; that all this happy anticipation, thisbelief, an intuition almost, that some delightful surprise awaitedhim, was the result of many lonely musings under the cold remotestars in virgin forests and wide deserts, a fleeting mirage born ofhomesickness. 

But all these cautions and warnings and efforts to stifle thisirrepressible and joyous expectation were quite unavailing and, as hedecided after he had been home a week, equally unnecessary, for theunaccustomed, piquant sense of anticipation remained with him andgave a flavor to his days which in themselves were not lacking inflavor; for merely to look, to loiter, to play at an exquisite and tohim exotic leisure was infinitely agreeable. The more delightful, indeed, because it was merely temporary. Hayden had come to New Yorkwith a definite purpose in view and his recreations were purelyincidental. 

His cousin, Kitty Hampton, was expressing her envy of him one wintermorning as they were strolling down the Avenue together. Now itshould be explained that Mrs. Warren Hampton, even if she was smallto insignificance and blond to towness, thus increasing herresemblance to a naughty little boy, was nevertheless a veryimportant person socially. 

"I wish I could get up some of your nice, fresh enthusiasm, Robert, "she said discontentedly. "Everything seems awfully stupid to me. "

"That's because you've no imagination, Kitty. Fancy this seemingstupid!" He drew in the cold air of the sparkling morning with a longbreath of satisfaction. "If your eyes had been traveling over theglare of deserts or plunging into the gloom of tangled forests forseveral years, you would think people and all this glitter and lifeand motion a very delightful change. Why, everywhere I look I seewonders. I expect anything to happen. Really, it would not surpriseme in the least to turn a corner and meet a fairy princess anyminute. "

Kitty fell in with what she supposed was his mood. "We will turn thevery next corner and see, " she said. "But how will you know her evenif we should meet her. "

"I shall know her, never fear, " he affirmed triumphantly, "whethershe wear a shabby little gown, or gauzes and diamonds. I shall lookinto her eyes and know her at once. "

He was laughing and yet there was something in his voice, a sort ofring of hope or conviction, that caused Kitty to lift her prettysulky little face and look at him with a new interest. And Hayden wasnot at all bad to look at. He was well set-up, with a brown, squareface, brown hair, gray eyes full of expression and good humor and anunusually delightful smile, a smile that had won friends for him, ofevery race and in every clime, and had more than once been effectivein extricating him from some difficulty into which his impulsive andnon-calculating nature had plunged him. 

"The fairy princess, " she repeated slowly and quite seriously. "Sureenough, there should be one. " She gazed at him appraisingly:"Young--moderately young and good-looking enough. You haven't gotfat, And all that tan is becoming, and--how are you off anyway, Bobby?"

He looked down at her amusedly. "The fairy princess would never askthat question. "

"Oh, yes, she would. Do not dream that she wouldn't--to-day. "

"Very well, then. To be perfectly truthful, I have 'opes. I believe Ihave found my pot of gold at the end of the rainbow. Yes, I do. Oh, it's nothing very definite yet, but I believe, I truly believe I'vestruck it. "

"How?" she asked curiously. 

"Ah, my dear, I'm not quite ready to tell. It's a romance, as youwill agree when you hear it. What's the matter?"

For Kitty instead of showing any proper, cousinly enthusiasm waslooking at him with a frown of petulant vexation. 

"Then why couldn't you have come home six months, even three monthsearlier? Young, good-looking, and, as I now discover, rich, or aboutto be. Oh, it is too bad!"

He gazed at her in amazement. "My dear Kitty, " in playful humility, "even if your flattering estimate of me is true, I don't see why youshould be so disgruntled about it. "

Her April face broke into smiles, and yet she sighed. "Oh, Bobby, because, because I'm afraid the fairy princess is bespoke. Yes, "nodding at his astonishment, "I have a fairy princess in mind, one inwhose welfare I am deeply interested. "

"Oh, " comprehendingly, "one of your protégées, whom you are trying tomarry off. I assure you once and for all, Kitty, that such will notdo for me. I want the real thing in fairy princesses; under anenchantment, detained in the home of a wicked ogre; all that, youknow, and lovely and forlorn. "

She looked at him oddly. "If you only knew how you confirm myimpression. "

"Of what?"

She paid no attention to him. "I wish I knew certainly. She won'ttell until she gets ready, but it looks very much as if she wereengaged to Wilfred Ames. You remember him, do you not?"

Hayden thought deeply a moment. "A big fellow? Very light hair, blueeyes?"

"Yes, yes, " she nodded, "'the flanneled fool at the wicket, muddiedoaf at the goal' type, you know. One of those lumbering, good-lookingbabies of men that women like Marcia always attract. Every one thinksit's an awfully good thing, and I dare say I'd agree with them, ifyou hadn't happened along. But his mother! My patience, his mother!And she's behaving like a cat about the whole affair. Just as ifMarcia's mother were not enough! Oh, " in a burst of impatience, "whydo not things ever arrange themselves properly?"

He laughed, Kitty always made him laugh; but his curiosity wasaroused sufficiently to ask: "Have I ever in my remote past met thisparagon of a fairy princess?"

"No-o, no, I don't believe you have. Her mother took her to Europewhen she was quite young and she has lived over there most of herlife. "

"What is her name?" he asked idly. 

"Marcia, Marcia Oldham. "

"But Oldham, " with more show of interest. "Oldham! I seem to rememberthat. Isn't her father an old curmudgeon of a millionaire?"

"He was before he went to smash and died, " she returned briefly. "Heleft a wife and one daughter. "

"And the daughter is the fairy princess, " he was evidently amused atKitty's match-making proclivities. "But, Kitten, unless I am assuredthat she is under an enchantment, she will not do. "

Again his cousin looked at him with that untranslatable expression inher eyes, a little, half-bitter smile on her lips. "I'm only tooafraid we shall be able to satisfy you in that regard, " she staredbefore her with somber eyes. "Marcia is very lovely and very gifted. She paints wonderfully well. I have some of her water colors. Youmust see them. " She spoke with a complete change of tone, evidentlynot caring to discuss her friends' distresses whatever they might be. "By the way, Bobby, don't you want to dine with me this evening? I'llbe all alone. Warren is still in the West, you know. Dine with me, and we will go on to Bea Habersham's afterward. "

"Thank you, Kitty dear, but I'm going to see Mary Garden in _Thaïs_, this evening, so I'll be dining early. But why won't you take teawith me somewhere this afternoon, or else give me a cup or so?"

"No. Can not. " She shook her head decisively. 

"Bridge?" he asked whimsically. 

"For a wonder, no. Something far more interesting. I'm taking twowomen to a wonderful fortune-teller. Quite the most remarkablecreature you ever heard of. Why, Bea Habersham lost a big sapphirering last week and this woman told her exactly where to find it, andBea went right home and laid her hands on it. "

"What's her name? Where is she?" Hayden asked, with mock eagerness. "Perhaps she will find the fairy princess for me. "

They had reached Mrs. Hampton's home by this time, and she tookoccasion to look at him scornfully before entering. "Doubtlessshe will if you pay her enough, " she said. "And her name is----Oh, "wrinkling her forehead in perplexity, "I've got it downsomewhere, but for the moment, it's gone out of my head. Mademoiselle--Mademoiselle----Oh, an odd name. I'll rememberit sooner or later. Good-by. "

"Mademoiselle--Mademoiselle--" he teased her, imitating her voice. "Oh, an odd name, " And he laughed. "But, Kitty, do beg her to find methe fairy princess. "

CHAPTER II

When the curtain fell on the first act of _Thaïs_, that evening, Hayden drew a long sigh. He had been enjoying it with that keen, pleasant appreciation, that boyish glow of enthusiasm which stillremained with him. Then he turned his attention to the house andamused himself by picking out an occasional familiar face, andadmiring the carefully dressed heads and charming gowns of the womenabout him, and the whole brilliant flower-garden effect of theaudience. 

Presently, he noticed with some surprise that in spite of a crowdedhouse the two seats next him remained unoccupied; but just before thecurtain rose again he turned his head suddenly to discover that oneof the seats at least, the one farthest from him, was filled. Therecognition of this fact came almost with a shock, a pleasurableshock, for the new arrival was a young and beautiful woman and hisfirst feeling of surprise was shot with approbation at thenoiselessness of her entrance, an approbation that he longed toexpress verbally. 

She had slipped past several people, and taken her seat without anyof the jingling of chains, rattling of draperies and dropping ofsmall articles which usually proclaim the disturbing appearance ofthe late feminine arrival, and seem, in fact, her necessaryconcomitant. But this young woman though she had so recently enteredyet managed by some magic at her command to convey the impression ofhaving been in her seat all evening. 

Hayden hated to stare at her. He was, in fact, entirely too well bredto do anything of the sort, and yet, quite disgracefully, he longedto do nothing on earth so much, and further he was inclined tojustify himself in this social lawlessness. 

If women, either wilfully or unconsciously, succeeded in making picturesof themselves, they must expect to be gazed at. That was all there was tothe matter. Only, and there was the rub, Hayden couldn't very well profitby the courage of his convictions, in spite of his truculentself-assurance, for the simple reason that he wasn't capable of it. 

The lady was, he decided by virtue of his stolen glances, abouttwenty-five years old, although her poise of manner indicated a composurebeyond her years. And she was tall and slender, with a straight, regularprofile, and dark hair which fell back from her face in soft naturalwaves, and was very simply arranged. She had, in fact, a simplicity, almost an austerity of what one might call personal effect, which formeda contrast, certainly interesting and to Hayden at least as certainlyfascinating, between herself as she impressed one and her very elaborateand striking costume. 

Her wonderful gown--even Hayden's untutored masculine senses appreciatedits wonderfulness--was of some clinging green material which embraced herin certain faultless lines and folds of consummate art. About the hem itwas embroidered with silver butterflies, irregularly disposed yet allseeming to flutter upward as if in the effort to reach her knees. Thesealso decorated her low corsage and spread their wings upon her sleeves. She wore no jewels; and her only ornament was a large butterfly insilver, upon her breast, with diamond- and ruby-studded wings and rubyeyes. 

A butterfly! Was he dreaming? Had he thought so much of butterflies thathe saw them everywhere? For since his return from South America, Haydenhad exhibited a marked interest in butterflies, although, curiouslyenough, this enthusiasm was not in the least entomological. 

But to return to the lady. One foot was thrust a little from her gown, and Hayden was quick to notice that it was encased in a green satinslipper with a buckle which was a replica of the butterfly on her breast, only smaller in size. The whole idea of her costume struck him asfanciful, original and charming; and then--and then--it was only acoincidence, of course; but it started a train of thought which graduallymerged into giddier hopes. 

His admiration of her seemed to be universal, at least within theconfines of the opera-house, for it was evident that either the lady orher gown, or both, attracted a vast deal of attention to which she on herpart was either entirely oblivious or else so accustomed as to beindifferent. At last, she turned toward Hayden a little with a slightchange in her expression which he translated as annoyance. He was at onceovercome with a swift feeling of embarrassment, of compunction. It seemedto him that he must have sat with his eyes riveted on her. Resolutely, heturned them toward the stage until the poignant sweetness of theintermezzo began to dream through his consciousness as an echo of "thatmelody born of melody which melts the world into a sea, " and then, involuntarily, without premeditation, obeying a seemingly enforcedimpulse, he had turned toward her and she had lifted her eyes, violeteyes, touched with all regret; and a sudden surprised ecstasy had invadedevery corner of his heart and filled it with sweetness and warmth, forthe music, that enchanting, never-to-be-forgotten intermezzo, hadrevealed to him--the fairy princess. 

In a moment that he dreamed not of, around some unexpected corner oflife, she had turned her feet and he, crass fool that he was, was notsure that it was she; like all faithless generations, he had waited for asign, until at last, in the ebb and flow of the music, she had lifted hersweet eyes and he had known her finally, irrevocably, and for ever. 

He could not gratify his own insistent longing to move nearer her, or togaze and gaze at her, so during the next act he confined his glancesrigorously to the stage. Almost immediately, however, after the curtainfell, he happened to glance, by mere chance, toward one of the boxes, andhis heart stood still, for there far back in the shadowy depths, she wasstanding talking earnestly to a dark, thin woman in rose-color withdrooping cerise wings in her shining black hair. 

He turned involuntarily, half believing himself the victim of somehallucination and expecting to see her still sitting in her seat, only tofind that she really had gone. For a moment, a cold chill ran down hisback. How could she have vanished without his knowing it? It seemedincredible. What an uncanny way she had of coming and going! He glancedup at the box again where he fancied he had seen her; but the lady incerise was now seated, talking to two or three men. 

Good heavens! He began seriously to doubt the evidence of his senses. Hadshe, his fairy princess, ever really been in the house at all or had hedreamed her--her and her butterflies? Was she, after all, some fantasyborn of the music and his dreaming imagination? And would it ever bepossible to dream her again; or, if she were real, where, where could hefind her? To discover a fairy princess and to lose her, lose her, as heruefully confessed, like a needle in a haystack, was worse than never tohave found her. 

The final curtain fell. He rose with the rest of the house, dejectedlyenough, let it be said, when, glancing at his feet, he saw one of thesmall butterflies that had evidently fallen from her shoe. He almostshouted. Cinderella had left her glass slipper at the ball, or what, inthis case symbolized it, and he had found it. He slipped it carefullyinto his pocket and wasted no time in hastening home; but once in theseclusion of his own apartment, he drew it forth and carefully examinedit. It was an exquisite trinket fashioned with infinite care andperfectly conceived, with delicate threadlike antennæ, wings so thin asto be almost transparent, and ruby eyes. He smiled afresh with a kind oftriumphant satisfaction. 

Before him stretched a vista of golden opportunities, for this valuableand unique ornament must be returned. Naturally, it was a commission thathe could intrust to no one but himself. Any one would concede that; andshe, of course, in accepting it, would have to show a decent appreciationof his good offices; and they would probably discover mutual friends oracquaintances, or if they did not happen to possess such a thing as afriend or even an acquaintance in common, he would find exercise for hisingenuity by very speedily rectifying that difficulty. Either to inventor to discover some kind of a mutual friend or acquaintance was a task towhich he felt himself fully equal, and with this comforting reflectionuppermost in his mind, Hayden finally composed himself to slumber. Only, and this was his last conscious thought, he did wish she had lookedhappier. She was like a flower, exactly like the violets that droopedbelow the silver butterfly on her breast. 

"Oh, faint, delicious, springtime violet!" But again--that little pangwas like a stab at his heart--he did wish that her sweet eyes had notbeen touched with all regret. 

CHAPTER III

Hayden wasted no time, the next morning, in putting an advertisement inthe "Lost and Found" columns of the various newspapers, signing his fullname and address. Two lagging days passed, and then, just as hope wasbeginning to fade, he received a letter written in the third person, stating with what seemed to him rather cruel succinctness, that if Mr. Robert Hayden could find it convenient to be at the restaurant of theGildersleeve Hotel that evening, the owner of the ornament described inhis advertisement, namely a silver butterfly, would be there dining alonebetween the hours of eight and nine and would thus be able to receive herproperty in person. 

With a vague feeling of disappointment through all his elation, Haydenturned the note over in his hand. At the head of the page was embossed asilver butterfly, but beyond this clue there was nothing to indicate thelady's identity; no name, no address. Again he read the brief wordswritten in a clear, upright hand, which so plainly showed strength ofcharacter and unusual self-control, but gained no new light. 

What an odd happening! He felt indefinably chilled. Why this appointmentfor a meeting at one of the large hotels? Curious. Why this mystery, anyway, he thought irritably; why this excess of mystery? And yet, afterall, he was forced to confess to his inmost soul that, mystery though itwas, he did not find it any the less delightful for that, rather the moreso. 

He had never known so slow a day. The minutes lagged unaccountably, thehours crawled forward at the most snail-like pace, and his impatience atthis was tempered to a satirical amusement by the fact that the entireworld of his friends seemed banded together in a conspiracy to engage hissociety for that particular evening. 

He had, as night drew on, a breathless and excited sense of eluding andescaping them, and dressed with the emotions of the criminal who realizesthat the sleuths are hard upon his trail. It is unnecessary to say thathe was early at the Gildersleeve, and managed to secure a table whichcommanded a view of the entire room. He had an hour and a half beforeeight o'clock, and he put as much of it in as possible in ordering acarefully chosen dinner, taking an incredible time over it, for, as thefever of his anticipation ran high, his manner became the more cool andleisurely, a temperamental trait of his. 

He ate his soup as slowly as possible, and glanced about at the tablesnow rapidly filling up with all the laughing groups of men and women whowould be going on to the theater and the opera a little later. The musicwas charmingly subdued; a whiff of fragrance from the flowers on histable reached him. He liked the atmosphere of this hotel, quiet, restful, and handsome after a restrained and sober fashion; and then, all at once, the surroundings, the groups at the tables, the waiters passing to andfro, the appealing music, the noise and hum of conversation lost life andmotion and color, and became the mere tapestry against which she alonemoved. 

It was about half-after seven when the vigilant eye which Hayden had keptso persistently on the door was rewarded; but to his disappointment, shewas not alone, but was accompanied by an elderly, gray-haired man. However, his spirit was somewhat restored by the fact that they took atable immediately within the line of his vision. She wore black to-night, gauzy and diaphanous black. A small black toque with some upstandingsilver trimming rested on her hair, and the silver butterfly on herbreast seemed to flutter its delicate, shining wings; but depending fromit almost to her waist and encircling her neck, was an exquisite chain ofsmall, enameled butterflies. They were in all shades of yellow andorange, with touches of black, and were held together by tiny, jeweledlinks. Butterflies, more butterflies! Could it be? Was it a possibility?Hayden cautioned himself lest his imagination ran away with him. 

He could not fail to notice that here, as at the opera, she was again anobject of interest. Every one in the room seemed to be either openly orfurtively gazing at her. In this, he reflected, there was nothing verypeculiar, as her beauty, which was sufficiently marked to compel interestanywhere, was not more noticeable than the unique and remarkablybeautiful ornaments she was wearing. 

The man with her, unobtrusive and gray enough in all conscience to escapeany attention whatever, yet made a peculiar impression on Hayden. As hesat, apparently ordering dinner in haste, with his watch in his hand, soto speak, Hayden was struck by the deference he displayed to the lady heaccompanied, and the lack of ease in his manner. He was like a man whohad been unwittingly drawn into a situation which rendered him extremelyuncomfortable, and he was distinctly not of her world. On the other hand, the lady of the silver butterfly, as Hayden was forced to call her, inlieu of any other name, exhibited her usual calm, unruffled composure. 

Hayden could not notice, watch her as closely as he would, that sheshowed even curiosity as to whether or not he was in the room. Not oncedid he succeed in surprising the smallest glance in his direction. Instead, for the most part, she talked earnestly to the man opposite, whohad evidently ordered his dinner of dishes ready to be served, and washastily consuming them, while she had given more time to her order, anddid not really begin her dinner until her vis-à-vis had disposed of his. Then, with a final and hasty glance at his watch, the gray and elderlyman arose, bowed awkwardly and formally to her and left the room. 

The first course of the lady's dinner had just been placed before her, and Hayden could not fail to admire the way in which she bore herself. Although, as at the opera, she must have been conscious of the manyadmiring eyes cast in her direction, she gave no evidence of it, and hewas almost equally piqued by the fact that she manifested no apparentinterest in his presence. Not once did she turn her head toward the door, not once did she incline her eyes in his direction. 

She had just finished her soup when, the clock indicating one minute ofeight, Hayden took a last sip of his black coffee, the last whiff of hiscigarette, and walked down the room toward her. As he reached her tableand stood before her, she looked up with a charming smile, which yet helda touch of shyness, an embarrassment she struggled to conceal, and noddedtoward the chair so recently vacated by her elderly companion. To hissurprise, Hayden saw that she was younger than he had at first thoughther, and wondered afresh at her apparent isolation. 

"Won't you sit there, please? You are very prompt. It is just eighto'clock. "

He seated himself opposite her. "A proof of my desire to escape theresponsibility of your ornament, " he replied, taking from his pocket thebox enclosing the silver butterfly and holding it out toward her. 

"Oh, thank you. " She laid it on the table beside her without opening it. "It is extremely good of you to forgo any engagement you may have hadmerely to return this to me with your own hands. " But although her wordsshowed composure, her voice, the color that came and went, exhibited anagitation she could not wholly overcome. 

"Good! Not at all, " he returned. "There may have been several reasonswhich would make me wish to deliver the buckle to you in person--itsbeauty and value for one thing; but to be perfectly frank, let me confessthat there was one overmastering reason, that my interest in this matterhas been enormously increased by one of the most potent of factors; afactor that might be called the greatest stimulant in the world to even atepid interest. "

She looked up at him with surprise, even, he fancied, a slight alarm. "What can you possibly mean?" she asked coldly. 

He had leaned his arms upon the table, and now he smiled up at her like amischievous, cheeky school-boy. Even the most prejudiced person could butacknowledge that Hayden had a most delightful smile. 

"Mystery, " he replied. 

Her eyelashes lay on her cheek, long, black eyelashes on a cheek ofcream, with the faintest, the very faintest stain of carnation. She wasdrawing designs on the tablecloth with her fork. She started slightly, but if she felt any perturbation of spirit, she gave no sign further ofit, and yet Hayden knew intuitively that he had said just the thing heshould have been most careful to avoid. 

"Ah, yes, " she said at last slowly. "I dare say it does look like that. Idid not think of it in that way. I'm afraid I was thinking only ofexpediency. "

"And expediency to you apparently spells mystery to me, " he said. 

She made an impatient gesture. It struck him now that she was reallyannoyed. "I can not help it if you see it that way. " She strove to makeher voice icy. 

"Wouldn't any one?" he persisted. 

"Perhaps. " She appeared to waver. 

"You must admit, " he continued, perversely pursuing the subject, "thatyou are rather mysterious yourself. Why, you appeared so suddenly andnoiselessly beside me at the opera the other night--"

"My mother was to meet me there, " she interrupted him, "but shedisappointed me. "

"And then as suddenly and noiselessly you disappeared, that truly, if Ihad not found the buckle of your shoe, I should never afterward have beensuccessful in assuring myself that you had really been there. "

She looked at him now with a sparkle of amusement in her eyes, and heexperienced a quick sense of delight that violet eyes could be merry. 

"Perhaps I was not really there at all, " she laughed. It was evident thatshe had thrown aside the distrust and distress of a few moments before. "Listen"--leaning forward and speaking with more animation and assurancethan she had yet shown--"I will construct a romance for you, a romance ofmystery, since you seem determined to have mystery. Can you not fancy awoman, young, eager, interested in all sorts of things, and shut off fromthem all, living somewhere in the depths of the woods and consumed withlonging for the intense and changing life of the city, whose variedphases only seem the more vivid and interesting when heightened bydistance; and she dreams of this--this lonely girl--until her longingbecomes so great and so vast and overmastering that her thought goesslipping away--away from the gloomy woods to enjoy stolen, brief, brightglimpses of the world? Is that beyond your imagination?"

"It is not at all beyond my imagination, " he said modestly, "but if youare trying to impress upon me the fact that you are no more real than myfancy has once or twice suggested, it brings up a nice moral question. AmI justified in handing over to a chilly ghost a valuable and beautifulornament belonging to some one else?"

She laughed outright, frankly amused. "That is a question you will haveto decide for yourself, " she said demurely. "You can't expect me to helpyou. "

"Very well, " he replied with equal promptitude. "I refuse any furtherresponsibility and leave it entirely to your conscience. "

"Are you--do you live in New York?" The carnation deepened slightly inher cheek at this personal question. 

"I was born here, " he replied. "I've lived here all my life that Ihaven't been away from it. " They both burst out laughing at this proof ofhis ancestry. 

"Let's talk on the two most interesting subjects in the world, " he said, leaning forward as if struck by a sudden inspiration, "yourself andmyself. I will begin at the beginning and tell you everything I know orhave ever heard about myself and then you do the same. "

"But no one ever knows when to stop when he or she begins to talk abouthimself or herself, " she objected, and again the shyness crept into hervoice. "You would occupy a thousand and one nights in the recital, andyou have only"--she glanced at a tiny watch--"you have only ten minutes. "

"Must Cinderella leave the ball exactly on the stroke of nine?"

"Certainly. Her pumpkin coach awaits her at that hour, and you know whathappens to the pumpkin coach and the coachman and footmen if she keepsthem waiting a minute overtime. "

He sighed. "Well, I see that I must be dreadfully brief in what I have tosay; and this is it. I have asked no reward for returning you yourtrinket, have I? But that does not absolve you from the courtesy ofoffering one; now, it seems to me that it is not at all amiss, in fact itis quite fitting, that I should dictate the terms of it. I am sure thatthis attitude of mine appeals, if not to your generosity, to your senseof justice, " He paused politely. 

"I can at least see the position I put myself in if I decline to admitit, " she parried. 

"Oh, I am sure of your position, " he assured her. "I take that forgranted. No one with a spark of kindly feeling could look at this matterexcept in one way. Now, you must admit that I have behaved beautifully. Ihave made no attempt to surprise your reticence, or even to discover yourname. Truly, I haven't made the faintest effort to entrap you into anyrevelations, have I? Now, I am sure that we must know quantities of thesame people, and all I ask is that you mention some of your engagementsto me for the coming fortnight. Suppose, for instance, you were to say:'I am going to be at the Goddards to-morrow afternoon about five. Wednesday, I am to dine at the Symmeses. Thursday, at the Hamptons. '"

Did she give a little start, or was it his fancy? At any rate shefollowed him with unmistakable interest, and when he had finished sheleaned back in her chair with a ripple of low laughter. 

"I do not believe we will begin that, " she said. "It's like a game and wecould go on indefinitely mentioning names on the strength of finding amutual acquaintance. No, I am something of a fatalist. I think I will letevents take their course. If we are to meet again, why, we are. If not, why, all our poor efforts can not compass it. Ah, it is nine o'clock, onthe very stroke! Good night. " She smiled graciously, charmingly. "Andthank you again for so kindly restoring my property. "

It was a very distinct dismissal. Hayden rose at once. "But, " heprotested before he took a step to depart, "you can not leave me thisway. The only way I can think of you is as 'The Lady with theButterflies, ' and it is too cumbersome a title. It sounds like the nameof a picture. It is such a catalogue-y title. "

"It is really, " she agreed with him. "There is no doubt about it. I amsorry, " demurely, black lashes again on cheeks of cream, no, carnation. She did not mention her name and Hayden's face fell. 

"I wonder if you know my cousin, Kitty Hampton, " he said at a venture. 

"My pumpkin coach!" she exclaimed, moving toward the door. 

"But my reward!" he cried. "I refuse to let you go without bestowing it. It is not honest. "

She sighed and she smiled, she flushed and wavered. "Then take thisassurance, " she said, as one driven to a corner. "Believe me when I tellyou that when you wish to see me I shall not be hard to find. I havereason to think that you will find it very easy. "

[Illustration]

CHAPTER IV

Although Hayden proved himself reluctantly regardful of the butterflylady's very evident desire to be left alone, he did not at once leave thehotel. Instead, he strolled into the office and after loitering aboutthere for a few moments, he was just leaving when he encounteredPenfield, Horace Penfield. Ordinarily, Hayden would have avoided him ashe would fire and pestilence; but to-night he rather went out of his wayto secure Penfield's society. 

Penfield was a thin man with slightly stooping shoulders and a neck thatcraned forward. He had a long pale face as narrow as a wedge, a nose assharp as a fox's, keen, ferret-like eyes, and white lashes. No longeryoung, he yet managed to achieve this effect and retain the manner ofyouth. His claims to social distinction rested on the solid basis offear. He was a walking bureau of information, a daily newspaper. When theharsh vituperation of those who, having nothing more to lose, had nothingmore to gain, occasionally assailed him, he had been heard callously toassert that he preferred being dangerous to being ineffective, and thathe would infinitely rather be a menace to society than its victim. Inshort, the profession of scandal-mongering he pursued with concentration, finesse, and infinite tact. If for himself he achieved eminence, becamemaster of his craft, it was doubtless sufficient recompense. 

"Hello, Hayden, " he said in his thin, satirical voice. "How are you andyour affairs?"

"All right, I guess, " said Hayden indifferently. 

For a season they talked on various subjects, falling gradually into adiscussion of the merits of certain mining propositions, until Haydensaid with premeditated suddenness:

"By the way, Penfield, have you ever heard of the Butterfly mine orestate?"

"The Butterfly!" repeated Penfield slowly. "The Butterfly!" He pinchedhis lower lip meditatively. "Let me see! One of those Mexican mines, isn't it? Or wait a moment, " shrewdly. "I may have mines on the brainbecause we've been talking about them. Upon my word, Hayden, " his faceflushing with shame, his professional pride sadly wounded, "I'm awfullysorry; but to tell the truth, I can't just put my finger on it. Yetsomewhere, lately, I've heard of it. Did I read of it or hear peoplespeaking of it?" He drew his hand over his brow, looking really worried. "Come on and walk down the Avenue with me, " he said. "Maybe the night airwill refresh my memory, and I'll be able to think it out as we movealong. "

But the night air could hardly be regarded as a potent factor inrestoring Penfield's recollections, for they walked some distance and hehad succeeded in offering no answer to Hayden's question; and although hestrove lightly to discuss the various topics which arose between them, hewas manifestly so perturbed and dismayed that Hayden felt his contemptmitigated by a faint touch of pity. 

Finally, when about to cross from one side of the street to the other, they paused to give an oncoming motor the right of way. As it went flyingpast them, a woman leaned forward and bowed and smiled. It was the ladyof the butterflies, and in the white light of the electric lamp Haydensaw seated beside her the same gray, elderly, unobtrusive man with whomshe had entered the Gildersleeve. 

"By George! Marcia Oldham!" cried Penfield. 

Marcia Oldham! What a coincidence! What luck! Hayden exulted. So Kitty'sFairy princess and his fairy princess were identical. It was surely oneof the most incredible and delightful of happenings. Now Kitty Hamptonshould have an opportunity to prove that cousinly affection of which shewas always assuring him. 

"You know her, of course?" asked Penfield. 

"I have recently met her, " replied Hayden briefly. 

"Queer thing about that family, " meditated Penfield. 

"Queer? How? What do you mean?" exclaimed Hayden involuntarily, althoughhe bitterly reproached himself a moment later, for having, as heexpressed it, so far forgotten himself as to ask any questions ofPenfield. 

Penfield chuckled, an arid, biting chuckle it was, too. His facebrightened up, his crestfallen manner merged happily into jauntiness, hisself-respect was restored. He was again the authoritative gossip. 

"You know, of course, of old Oldham. One of the millionaires of the lastdecade. Well, with changing times, changing methods of finance, he losthis grip, and about five years ago he died, heavily involved, leaving awidow and one young daughter, Marcia. Mrs. Oldham had been a Southernwoman of the old régime, and was a pretty, absolutely helpless creature, and Marcia was still at school. 

"Of course it raised a storm of talk. They had been used to every luxury, all the ease of wealth; they relied on the machinery, you know, to lookafter them, and it never entered into their heads that the wheels couldstop. When they did stop, as you can imagine, every one was discussingthe poor Oldhams. There was the greatest raising of hands and lowering ofvoices and mopping of eyes whenever their names were mentioned. " His aridchuckle seemed to strike Hayden like the spatter of hail. 

"'What will become of them?' 'What can they do?' 'A helpless woman likeMrs. Oldham and a young daughter!'" He mimicked feminine voices. "Youheard that sort of thing bleated on every side. All the women advancedpositive opinions on just what they ought to do. The consensus, Ibelieve, amounted to this, that it was the part of wisdom for the Oldhamsto sell everything they had left and depart for some obscure German orFrench town where Marcia might perfect herself in the languages and fitherself for a nursery governess or something of that kind. 

"But"--again a fit of laughing which almost choked him--"to thedisapproval, even horror and disgust of all kind friends, the eccentricOldhams did nothing of the kind. They went along as they always had, andcertainly they did not then display nor ever have displayed any lack ofmoney. They live simply, entertain very little; but Marcia who isconsidered a beauty goes out constantly. She is seen everywhere, dressesquite as well as her school friends, Kitty Hampton and Bea Habersham, with whom she always appears, and who, as of course you know, have bothmarried enormous amounts of money. Her extravagance is hardly discreet, considering a watchful and censorious world; but when one has suchpowerful and extremely loyal friends, discretion is unnecessary. "

"She paints beautifully, I understand, " said Hayden indignantly. 

Penfield's thin laughter stabbed his ear-drums. "If she sold in a yearall the pretty little pictures she paints it would barely pay for hergowns. No, that won't do. But, " and a new note crept into Penfield'svoice, "did you see that old duffer who was with her? That's where sheshows her discretion. He is kept very much in the background. It is onlyoccasionally that she appears with him. "

"Who is he?" asked Hayden gruffly, desperately ashamed of himself forstooping to question Penfield. 

Penfield elevated his eyebrows and spread his hands. "Let us hope that heis the rich uncle from Australia, " he said gently. "Ah, Hayden, Bea andKitty have managed the affair with Wilfred Ames beautifully so far. TheyHave almost succeeded in pulling it off in spite of the reluctant ladyand Wilfred's raving mother; but Wilfred, good, old, thick-wittedWilfred, is becoming daily more uncomfortable. Fido won't lie down and goto sleep on the hearth-rug as Kitty and Bea wish him to. On the contrary, owing to his mother's watchful vigilance, he is sniffing around quitesuspiciously, and, " with a series of chuckles, "I believe, although I amnot sure yet, that the fair Marcia has a rival, and a rival to bereckoned with, I assure you. "

Hayden felt he had stood all that he could. Penfield really was toooffensive. His first impulse was to turn on his heel and leave hiscompanion without a word; but on second thoughts, he decided to retainPenfield's company, and put into execution a little plan which wasrapidly maturing in his brain, and which appealed to his hazard-lovingfancy. It was a mere chance, one in a million, but he considered it worthtaking. Penfield knew all the world and its affairs. He, more than anyone Hayden could think of, might be of use to him in a certain Argonauticexpedition he was adventuring upon. He decided to put it to the test, anyway. 

"So you, too, are interested in mines, " he said, with an easy change ofsubject. "Well, " with a short laugh, "as far as they are concerned, Ihappen to be in the position of a man who sees a spring of water in thedesert and may not stoop to drink of it. "

"What on earth do you mean?" cried Horace. His head shot forward, hisnose twitched. He scented a fresh piece of news as a dog scents truffles. "Have you found a fortune?" His curiosity was as fully aroused as Haydenhoped. 

They had reached the latter's apartment by this time and Hayden paused amoment on the step. "Come in, " he said, "and I will tell you. You havenot seen my diggings, anyway. "

By what he considered a sheer stroke of luck, he, Hayden, had not beentwo days in New York, when an old friend, who was under the necessity oftaking a long journey with the expectation of being absent severalmonths, urged him to take possession of the apartment he and his wifewere temporarily vacating. After a sight of it, Hayden gladly embracedthe opportunity and now, he and his Japanese servant, Tatsu, thecompanion of ten wandering years, were installed in beautiful andluxurious quarters which had come without the lifting of a finger tosecure them. 

Here was a fresh field for Penfield's inevitable investigations, andHayden's disclosures of his private affairs, deeply as they interestedhim, could wait a bit. Horace was patient by nature and training. "Onething at a time, " was a favorite motto, and it was not until he hadexhausted the possibilities of the apartment and had peered into everynook and corner, that he consented to sit down in the comfortable libraryand express his commendation of the place and envy Hayden's luck. 

Robert, on his part, had followed his guest about, replying mechanicallyto his questions and endeavoring to throw off a depression which hadcrept over him. 

The night had been cold, and to one with any decency of feeling, Penfieldwas a disagreeable companion; but if noxious he also had his uses, andthe more Hayden pondered the matter, the more he was strengthened in hisdecision to secure Penfield's assistance. The humor for it grew upon himas the reassuring comfort and cheer of his surroundings graduallypermeated his consciousness. 

He was, as he felt, really risking very little. As he had said to Horace, he was in the position of a man who has found a spring in the desert, butmay not stoop to drink. No, all the publicity Penfield could give to thefact of his, Hayden's, discovery of the spring might be of incalculablebenefit to him in his search for the owners of a certain property, andcould, under no circumstances work him an injury, so long as he kept thesecret of the situation inviolably locked in his breast, and no matterwhose imagination might be fired by the tale, he felt a reasonablesecurity. Experienced prospectors, experts in their line, hadbeen seeking this symbolic well in the desert for twenty-five years andhe, not by virtue of his skill or knowledge, but by a mere fluke, aglorious accident, had stumbled on it. It was hardly likely that anothershould have a similar experience, within the space of the next few monthsat any rate, and the next few months were all he asked. 

The wood-fire on the hearth flickered redly over the walls, the lampswere lighted in anticipation of his arrival; easy chairs were drawn nearthe fire; books, papers and magazines were temptingly displayed on thetable. 

"What were we talking about before we came up?" said Hayden, with theeffect of mental effort. 

"Mines, " Horace replied promptly. "You were about to tell me of a bigfind you've made. Go on. "

"Ah, yes. But"--Hayden laughed a little ruefully--"you've put the thingentirely too definitely when you say 'a big find I've made. ' The botherof it is that I have and I haven't. "

"What do you mean by that?" asked Horace, cocking his head sidewise andlooking at his host speculatively. 

"Just what I say, " replied the latter. "You see, it happened down inSouth America, several months ago. We were running a railroad through agreat estate, oh, an enormous estate in the mountains. You could getabout any variation of climate and soil you wanted. Well, there was atradition about the place which I heard again and again, and whichgradually grew to haunt my imagination; it was that somewhere on thisestate was a lost mine of stupendous value; and that although no one hadapparently any idea where it might be located, or had succeeded infinding a trace of it, nevertheless, according to current report, it hadbeen worked within the last quarter of a century, that is, worked in aprimitive and intermittent sort of way. "

"But, " interrupted Penfield, "twenty-five years! That of course is withinthe memory of dozens of people. What on earth--"

"Wait, " said Hayden. "Your part of this game is to listen calmly, notinterrupt. Don't you suppose I considered all those points? Now to goback into the history of the thing; this is the story that I gathered, here a little, there a little, and gradually pieced together. 

"This vast estate was one of the holdings of a very ancient and nobleSpanish family. It was, as I have said, situated in the mountains, andnaturally comprised great tracts of valueless land, barren and rocky, although there were also fertile valleys and broad cultivated plateaus. Agreat mansion, the home of Don Raimond De Leon, the owner of the estate, was situated on one of these plateaus and commanded one of the mostbeautiful views one could dream of. One gazes down the mountain side onfields of corn and alfalfa, green as emerald, and orchards of bloomingfruit-trees; down, down these terraces fall until at their feet lie thetropical valleys with their orange and pineapple groves, and wild, luxuriant vegetation; and then, one turns and glances upward; above himthe barren mountain sides, the summits austere, remote, covered withperpetual snow. 

"Well, here surrounded by every form of natural scenery, there lived, Isay, this old don and his only daughter, Lolita. Of course she had a namea mile long, Maria Annunciata Mercedes Eugénie and all the rest, but theycalled her Lolita for convenience. The traditions of their rank werealways rigidly maintained. They lived in feudal state and splendor, occasionally journeying to Spain; and the daughter, in addition to herbeauty, was possessed of all the graces and accomplishments of a youngwoman of her class. 

"But while yet in the flower of her beauty and youth, an Americanadventurer, a soldier of fortune, appeared upon the scene. He had eithercome by design or strayed there by mistake, probably the former; butthat, however, is immaterial. He happened to possess those firstrequisites of the successful soldier of fortune--a charming personality, a pretty wit, and a most ready address. In a very short time, thehacienda and all that it contained were his. He captured not only thedaughter but the old don himself, and to him the latter confided thesource of the family's almost illimitable wealth, the source, but notits location; and this source was a hidden mine, called oddly enough'The Veiled Mariposa. '"

Penfield started as if he had been shot. "What did you say that namewas?" he cried, his ferret-face sharpened with eagerness. 

"The Veiled Mariposa, " repeated Hayden, watching him keenly, andoverjoyed at the success of his plan. It was evident that Horace knewsomething. "Mariposa is the Spanish name for butterfly, you know. "

"By Jove, what a coincidence!" muttered Penfield. 

"A coincidence? How? What do you mean?" It was Robert's turn to be eagernow. "Have you heard of it? Have you?"

Penfield shook his head. "Not of it exactly, but--but--"

"But--but--" repeated Hayden impatiently. He felt injured and showed it. "You evidently know something, but you won't tell me. Do you think thatis playing quite fair, Horace?"

"Bosh! I'm playing fair all right. I'll tell you fast enough when there'sanything to tell. What I have in mind may be the merest coincidence, probably is. I want to do a bit of thinking first before I say anything. But go on with your story. What has all this to do with you?"

"Where was I? Oh, yes. " Hayden took up the thread of his narrative again. "Well, the soldier of fortune married the don's lovely daughter with theold father's entire approval. They had a great wedding, the festivitieslasting for days. Don Raimond bestowed bags and bags of gold and silveron them, and they sailed away for France. 

"Now, contrary to the customary fate of such unions, the marriagealthough childless turned out happily. For the next ten years or so, theAmerican and his Spanish wife, his name by the way was Willoughby, livedin great magnificence in the various capitals of Europe, maintaining analmost royal state and entertaining constantly on a grand scale. Occasionally, they visited the father in South America, and once or twicehe visited them, and the bags of gold were always punctually forthcoming. 

"Then suddenly, a most appalling thing happened. The district in whichthe old don lived was swept by a plague of unusual virulence. De Leonsuccumbed before he had time to make any disposition of his property, even write a line to his daughter. His Yankee overseer in charge of themine was also stricken the same day and followed his employer within afew hours, and the Indian and Spanish laborers on the estate went likesheep. There is a rumor that misfortunes did not cease here, but that theplague was followed by an earthquake of a most devastating nature, andthus the population of that especial district was almost wiped out. 

"As soon as the news of these disasters reached the Willoughbys they tookpassage at once for South America to verify the terrible rumors. Theyfound their worst fears confirmed, and to crown their sorrows, Willoughby, after going over De Leon's papers again and again, could findno map of the mine, nor any directions as to its location. There wererecords enough of the ore mined and shipped, all in the old don'shandwriting, but nothing to aid his son-in-law in rediscovering the mine. 

"Willoughby immediately put some experienced prospectors to work andsecured the services of several geological experts, but to no avail. Themine, mentioned always in the don's documents as The Veiled Mariposa, seemed to have vanished as completely as if it had never existed, or tohave been sunk by the earthquake into the very bowels of the earth. 

"All his efforts to find it having proved useless--efforts extending overseveral years--Willoughby put a young nephew of De Leon's, who hadrecently arrived from Spain, in temporary charge of the estate andreturned with his wife to France. Accustomed now for many years to avast, unconditioned expenditure, he found it impossible to contemplatethe comparative poverty which stared him in the face and he resolved totry to dispose of the whole estate, which a will of De Leon's made at thetime of her marriage conferred intact upon his daughter Lolita. 

"He hoped to sell at a magnificent figure. He trusted to his own magneticeloquence and his indisputable proofs of the enormous revenues of themine to inflame the cupidity of the purchaser or purchasers to such adegree that he would find no difficulty in securing a sum which wouldenable him to live in comfort, even luxury, for the remainder of hisdays. He was not successful in arranging the matter abroad and he came tothis country about six years ago hoping to make a better bargain. Heremained here in New York several months and then sailed for France on_The Princess Verona_. "

"_The Princess Verona_, " interrupted Penfield. "Why, she was lost at sea;went down with a terrible loss of life. "

Hayden nodded. "And neither Willoughby nor his wife was among the saved. But just before sailing, he wrote to the Spanish nephew on the oldestate, and also to his lawyers in France, announcing exultantly that hehad been successful in his mission, having sold the property at a greatfigure, and that he would shortly write of all the details of thepurchase. But from that day to this, the nephew has heard nothing furtherof the matter. There has been no effort to claim or to take possession ofthe property. That is, with this exception. Within the last six years, foreign prospectors have twice appeared on the estate, and on beingquestioned as to their business have said they came from the owners ofthe property. In both instances, however, they withheld the names of thepeople they were supposed to represent, and little credence was given totheir story. 

"But nevertheless, the French lawyers believe that the estate was sold, for just before sailing Willoughby purchased drafts in New York for alarge sum of money. 

"But where are the owners? Why should any one person or group of personsconsider a property sufficiently desirable as to pay such a sum for itand then apparently drop the whole matter? It's unthinkable, incredible. "Hayden sprang to his feet and began to walk the floor. "That's thequestion that has been puzzling me for months. What is their game? Whatdoes their waiting mean? But that is what I am here for--to try and traceup those owners. I'm prepared to give time and money to the task, for, Horace"--a passionate exultation rang through his voice--"I--I--havediscovered the mine, the wonderful, lost Veiled Mariposa. "

"The deuce you have!" exclaimed Penfield, actually showing something likeexcitement. "And is it really all that tradition says of it?"

"More, " affirmed Robert solemnly. "I tell you, Horace, it makes thefabled treasures of the Incas look like thirty cents. Ah, it's--" Hepaused on the hearth-rug and looked down on the gossip in the chair. "Ihave told you the story because you know everybody and everything abouteverybody, and I hoped you might be able to help me in my investigations. Your exclamation a while ago shows that you do know something. "

Penfield gazed at the fire through narrowed lids, then he shook his head. "No, " he said, "truly I know nothing. What I jumped at a while ago issomething that you are bound to run across yourself. I'm not telling allthat I know, but I'm willing to bet that within a very short time youwill hear of The Veiled Mariposa, and that, too, from a most unexpectedsource. "

"What are you driving at now?" cried Hayden. "Come, speak up. What's theuse of being mysterious?"

"It amuses me, that's all, " grinned Penfield. "But truly, Hayden, if Icould be of any assistance to you I would. As I can not, at present, Ishall just sit tight and look on, occasionally putting my finger just farenough in the pie to stir things up and make them merry. " He rose andgetting into his coat and hat sauntered toward the door. 

"But, Horace"--Hayden started after him--"what do you mean by predictingthat I shall soon hear of The Veiled Mariposa?"

But Penfield only grinned more inscrutably than ever and closed the doorbehind him. 

Hayden glared irritably after his departing guest and then shook his fistin the direction Penfield had taken. Having thus relieved his feelings, he threw himself into a chair and moodily lighted a cigarette. He wassuffering one of the swift reactions of the optimistic and mercurialtemperament, which, if it suns itself upon the slope of Olympus pays forthe privilege by an occasional sojourn in Avernus. He was disgusted withPenfield, with himself, with the world. 

But wait, even in Avernus the darkness is sometimes penetrated by a rayof light. His quest, so far, had been fruitless. In the various cities ofEurope where the Willoughbys had lived and where he had made the mostpatient investigations, he had discovered practically nothing; and yet, here in New York, he had seen Penfield, the imperturbable, literally jumpwhen he had mentioned The Veiled Mariposa; and further, he had assuredhim that he would hear some word regarding it within a short time. Come!Hayden cheered visibly. That was something, at any rate. Things were notso bad, after all. He was well out of Avernus and beginning to scaleOlympus, and his mind reverted to the earlier and happier part of theevening. 

Then he had met and talked with Marcia Oldham. Marcia! What a charmingname! It was certainly a tremendous piece of luck that he had discoveredit. Of course, he had been disturbed by Penfield's revelations andinnuendoes. No one who took an interest in Miss Oldham could fail to beso. Nevertheless, Penfield's statements should always be thoroughlydiscounted. That was understood. 

Robert mechanically lighted another cigarette, still deep in thought. Penfield had spoken of the Oldham family fortunes. "Nothing left, " he hadasserted, and yet they continued a manner of life which involved largeexpenditures. How could one account with some show of probability forthese circumstances?

A number of hypotheses flashed through his brain. Could it not bepossible that this strong, self-reliant girl might have been aware ofcertain resources of her father's; or might not some old friend greatlyindebted to the father have come forward in the hour of need? That wasnot so incredible. Only, only, and this question recurred to him with aninsistence diabolical and mocking. Why should a woman, young, beautiful, luxurious to the point of extravagance, preserve these mysteries? Aye, there was the rub. 

And as he sat there in the fire-light, alone with his disturbingmeditations, trying to find some solution of this haunting puzzle, hefelt more strongly than ever the spell of her presence. He did not wishto throw it off, he would not have been able to do so if he willed. Itseemed to him that he had but to lift his eyes to see her standing therein her black gown, the butterflies shining in the fire-light. Again helooked into her sweet eyes, and he knew that from his soul he believed inher. That whatever circumstances entangled her they were not of herchoosing, and that whatever mysteries enmeshed her the web was not of herweaving. 

CHAPTER V

Some business matters connected with his profession occupied the greaterpart of Hayden's time for the next day or so; but in his first moments ofleisure, he hastened to look up Kitty Hampton. 

About five o'clock of a raw winter afternoon, he stopped at her house, intending under a pretense of a craving for hot tea to win Kitty tospeech of her friend Marcia. Well-simulated shivers, a reference to thebiting air, would secure his cousin's solicitude, then, at perhaps thethird cup, he would in a spontaneous burst of confidence confess to amore than passing interest. This would at once gain Kitty's warm ifunstable attention, her impulsive sympathy, and----. At this moment, thesevere and forbidding butler informed him that Mrs. Hampton was not athome, was out of town, and all further inquiries were met by a polite andnon-committal "I don't know, sir. "

Hayden turned away both disappointed and resentful. On the occasion oftheir walk, a few days before, Kitty had not mentioned to him anycontemplated journey, and now, just as he was counting on enlisting hergood offices, she had left him completely in the lurch, and all his plansfor again meeting Marcia Oldham were, as he expressed it, up in the air. 

To add to his general sense of disappointment and injury, he had had abrief line from Penfield saying that he had so far made no progress insome investigations he was making, but felt, nevertheless, that he was onthe correct trail and hoped to turn up something within a short time. 

Three or four days passed, the end of the week arrived, and still Kittyhad not returned. Hayden felt like a man on a desert island who watchesships passing back and forth laden with merry pleasure-parties, too muchabsorbed in their own amusements or too indifferent to his sufferings torescue him; and his sense of isolation and depression was greatlyincreased by the one, last, unnecessary, bitter drop in his cup--for thelady of his dreams had wantonly mocked him. Her promises had been idle asthe wind. She had assured him that she would be anything but difficult todiscover, had given the impression that he might chance to meet her atany moment, but the hopes she had held out were cheats, and she hadsucceeded either wilfully or by force of circumstances in verysuccessfully eluding him. She had vanished as completely as if she hadbeen that shadowy astral wraith they had jestingly discussed, and he wasnot only baffled and perplexed but wounded. 

His pride, very sore pride at present, was touched, and he told himselfthat since she chose thus to withdraw he would certainly not make adefinite and overt attempt to follow. Then, by way of adhering strictlyto this very good resolution, he proceeded to accept every socialinvitation which came his way, went religiously to luncheons, dinners, dances, anything that offered. He even invaded shops and strolled up anddown Fifth Avenue; but New York was empty of her. She had vanished assuddenly as she had appeared. 

One evening, just as he was really beginning to despair of ever seeingher again and feeling more dejected and miserable every minute inconsequence, he stopped in at one of the theaters to see an act or two ofa new play in which an English actress of great reputation, not onlybecause of her beauty but also for the artistic quality of her acting, was appearing. To his own surprise, the first act interested himsufficiently to remain, a resolution that later he could not sufficientlycommend, for, when the actress appeared in the second act, the streetdress she had worn previously had been changed for a superb evening gown. 

As she came forward to the footlights Hayden started as if he hadreceived an electric shock and leaned eagerly forward fumbling for hisglasses, for there upon her bosom, gleaming against the lace of her gown, was a great silver butterfly glittering with diamonds, while about herbeautiful shoulders fell a familiar chain of tiny, enameled butterflies, azure, deep purple, yellow and orange, and strung together with jewels. 

Hayden sat through the rest of the play in a daze. To his excited fancythere were butterflies, butterflies everywhere, the air seemed full ofthem. They served to bring up the image of Marcia Oldham very vividlybefore him. He turned now and again and carefully scanned the house, halfbelieving that she was present and he might at any moment encounter hereyes. But no such luck awaited him, and his surprise was all the moremarked when just as he was leaving the theater after the play wasfinished he felt a light touch on his arm and looked down to see thelaughing face of Kitty Hampton. 

"Kitty!" Hayden clutched her with such a grip that she winced. "Wherehave you been? Although I have daily beaten on your doors and rung you upon the telephone, I couldn't find a trace of you. "

She laughed. "Who says I haven't well-trained servants! Come, drive homewith me, " stepping into her waiting electric brougham. "Warren will bethere. He just got back this afternoon, and he will be so glad to haveyou. You see, I was becoming so bored and cross, and I got to hate thesight of everything and everybody to such an extent, that I just ran awayfrom it all, down into the country; and the best part of it was, that Iactually persuaded Marcia Oldham to go with me. Think of that! But Isucceeded in convincing her that it was her duty to go with me, that Iwas really on the verge of an illness and needed her care. Marcia isstrong on duty, you know. I tried my best to persuade her to do the playwith me to-night, but she wouldn't. She said she had no end of things tolook after. 

"Oh, I am so glad I met you! It is sheer luck. You see there were somepeople to dinner, and afterward, there were enough for bridge without me, so I just slipped away without a word to anybody and hid myself in a box. And I do hope you're hungry, Bobby. I am dreadfully. Nothing makes me sohungry as a play. Well, we'll all have some supper after a bit. "

Hayden's heart sang. He had sought and sought and all his seeking hadbeen vain, and here, by a mere chance, at an unlooked-for moment, theknowledge he had so ardently sought was his. He could afford to wait now;he leaned back comfortably and listened with an air of most eagerinterest to his cousin's chatter. 

Kitty had quite recovered her spirits, and when they stopped before herdoor she was in the full tide of some gay reminiscences, and shecontinued her animated recital until they reached her drawing-room. 

There were a number of people present who seemed just to have left thebridge-tables and were still discussing the game. Warren Hampton, a tall, quiet, rather elderly man, welcomed Hayden cordially. They had alwaysbeen good friends, and this was the first time they had met for severalyears. The rest, Hayden had either met casually or had to make theacquaintance of. Among this latter group was Mrs. Habersham, mentioned byPenfield as one of Marcia Oldham's most loyal friends, and Hayden wasTremendously interested in discovering in her the dark woman with therose-colored gown and the cerise wings in her hair with whom Marcia hadtalked that night at the opera. 

Somewhat to his disappointment, he was not seated near her at the veryjolly little supper which was served later, but was placed insteadbetween Kitty and a sallow, angular, vivacious woman with an unbecomingblue fillet in her hair. He had been talking to Mrs. Habersham andHampton, and had not really happened to glance at Kitty since they hadentered the room, but after they were seated at the table, he turned tospeak to her and was absolutely struck dumb. 

He drew his hand across his brow as if to brush away the cobwebs in hisbrain. What was this? From what sort of an obsession was he suffering? Hehad been thinking so much of those butterflies that he saw them whereverhe looked; but, poor victim of delusion that he was, he could swear thaton Kitty's breast, gleaming against the laces of her gown, was the samesilver butterfly which had earlier adorned the English actress, the sameunique and beautiful chain of tiny, brilliant, enameled butterflies. Hefelt an imperative desire to put out his finger and touch them, to askKitty if she really wore them, or if he but dreamed them. 

"Bobby, " murmured his cousin solicitously, "what on earth is the matterwith you? You look as if you had just seen a ghost. Your eyes are poppingout of your head, and you're staring at my butterflies as if theypositively frightened you. "

He drew a long breath of relief. "They're enough to make any one's eyespop out. "

She touched the huge silver insect on her breast. "Are they not dreams?"she said complacently. "One is simply nobody this winter unless one hasthem; and the beauty of it is they are so difficult to secure. "

"Miss Oldham wears a set, " he announced boldly. 

"Oh, of course. " She shot him a quick, rather surprised glance. "Have youmet Marcia yet?"

"Yes--just met her, not very long ago. "

"How odd that she didn't speak of it!" exclaimed Kitty. "But, "enthusiastically, "isn't she a dear? Do you know, Bobby, I do not believethat there is any one in the world, with the possible exception ofWarren, that I am half so fond of as I am Marcia? She is everything, themost all-around person you can imagine, and so gifted. She did theloveliest little water-color for me while we were away. I will show it toyou some time. "

At this moment, their conversation was interrupted by the lady with theblue fillet. She had not succeeded in getting even a hearing from the manon the other side of her. He showed a marked preference for his lobsterin aspic, entirely ignoring the charms of her conversation and giving hervery definitely to understand that he longed to be left to a silentcontemplation and appreciation of the merits of the Hampton's chef. 

"Oh, Kitty!" The blue fillet leaned across Hayden. "Bea Habersham wastelling us that you had been to see this new fortune-teller. Is shereally as good as Bea says?"

"Indeed she is!" cried Kitty, plunging into this new subject with herusual enthusiasm. "She's the most remarkable thing you ever heard of, andthe beauty of it is that you don't have to go into any dens and caves tofind her--none of the black holes where you tremble for your life andbegin to fear that you'll never get out again. And she has the mostcharming studio. "

"Bea said it was the dreamiest thing you ever saw and that she herselfwas a vision. Do you suppose she gets herself up that way really toconceal her identity, or is it to arouse more interest and enthusiasm?"

"How does she get herself up?" asked Hayden, with, however, no particularinterest in his tones. 

"Tell him, Kitty. I haven't been fortunate enough to see her yet, "replied the blue fillet--Mrs. Edith Symmes, by the way. 

"Oh, it is too fascinating for anything. " Kitty was eager to discuss herown particular find. "She is tall and graceful, oh, grace itself, and shewears a long black gown, Paris unmistakably, and"--Kitty threw greatemphasis on this "and, " and paused a moment for dramatic effect--"shewears a mantilla about her head, and a little black mask, with fringefalling from it so that even her mouth is concealed. It gives you thequeerest creepy feeling when she comes into the room. "

"How odd! How deliciously dreadful!" Mrs. Symmes shivered luxuriously. "Do write or telephone her and make an appointment for me, Kitty, dear. They say that if I do so on my own account I shall have to wait weeks andweeks, there are so many ahead of me; but you've been such an awfullyefficient press-agent that she will do anything for you. "

"But her prices! Her dreadful prices!" sighed a plaintive feminine voicefrom the other side of the table. "Have you seen her, Mr. Hayden?"

"Indeed I have not, " returned Hayden, "and I haven't the faintestintention of seeing her. I can't understand why you waste your money onthose people. They have absolutely nothing to tell you, and they arefakers and worse, in every instance. You know it, each one of you, andyet you continue to patronize them. "

"Hear him preach!" scoffed his cousin. 

"Kitty, you are the source of all our information this evening, " broke ina woman on her left. "Do tell us if it is true that Marcia Oldham'sengagement to Wilfred Ames is really announced. "

Hayden, his eyes on Kitty's face, could positively see it stiffen. "Ireally know nothing about it, " she answered coldly. 

"But they are together so much. "

"There are always a lot of men about Marcia. " Kitty's tone was ominouslycurt. 

"Oh, it is perfectly useless to try to get either Kitty or Bea Habershamto talk about Marcia, " murmured Edith Symmes in Hayden's ear. "Theysimply will not do it, and it is sheer waste of breath to ask them anyquestions. Now, I happen to know that the engagement is not definitelyannounced. " Hayden drew a long breath. It was as if some weight had beenlifted from him. "Marcia is odd, you know, awfully odd; but just thesame, in that slow, unyielding way of his, Wilfred is determined to marryher, and"--she lifted her eyes--"his mother is crazy, simply crazy aboutit. For a while she contented herself with merely clawing the airwhenever Marcia's name was mentioned; but after her nice, quiet, stupidworm of a Wilfred turned and definitely announced to her his intentions, she hustled herself into her black bombazine and has literally made ahouse-to-house canvas, telling everywhere her tale of woe. Poor old dame, it is rather hard on her!"

"Why?" asked Hayden, ice in his voice. "I should think that she wouldconsider her son an especially fortunate man. "

His companion gave a short laugh of irrepressible amusement. "I wish shecould hear you say that, and might I be there to see the fun, from a safecorner, mind you! 'The shouting and the tumult' would be worth while, Ican assure you. Oh-h, " with one of her affected little shivers, "I wishyou could hear some of the things she says about Marcia! Of course, onecan not exactly blame the poor old soul, for to say the least, Marcia, dear as she is, certainly lays herself open to conjecture. "

Hayden did not reply. He was rudely and unmistakably giving theimpression of not having heard a word she said; but this attempt on hispart, instead of offending his thin and voluble companion, only seemed toamuse her inordinately. 

"Do you know, Kitty, " announced the plaintive-voiced lady across thetable, "that your butterflies are really the prettiest ones I've seen, prettier than Mrs. ----, " mentioning the English actress, "for I got agood look at them at a reception the other day, and yours are quite aslovely as Bea's. Dear me!" in almost weeping envy. "I wish I could afforda chain of them. "

Edith Symmes had a positive explosion of her noiseless, faintly maliciouslaughter. "Did you hear that?" she whispered to Hayden. "Whine-y Minnieover there is as rich as cream; and yet, she can't afford those dreamybutterflies, while Marcia Oldham, who hasn't a cent in the whole world, wears a set which, as usual, surpasses every other woman's. It is a mostamazing and amusing social riddle. Even you, who are evidently one of heradmirers, must admit that. "

"I can't really afford anything worth while this year, " sighed thedolorous lady characterized as whine-y Minnie, "but I must try and get anappointment with that fortune-teller, even if it is hideously expensive. What did you say her name is, Kitty?"

"An odd name, " mimicked Hayden, catching his cousin's eye and unable toresist a school-boy temptation to tease her. "An odd name. " He reproducedKitty's high lisping tones perfectly. 

"Bobby, if you mock me, I'll give you something that will make you laughon the other side of your mouth, " she said rapidly under her breath, andreverting to the phraseology of childhood. "Did you ask her name, Minnie?It _is_ an odd name. Mademoiselle Mariposa. Sometimes called 'The VeiledMariposa. '"

Hayden's laughing face stiffened as if he had received a shock from anelectric battery. Mariposa! Mariposa!--the butterfly. Horace Penfield'swords recurred to him; "I am willing to bet now that you will hear of TheVeiled Mariposa in a very short time, and that, too, from a mostunexpected source. "

CHAPTER VI

Hayden had elected to spend one evening at home, a most unusual decisionfor him, but one which the night fully justified, for a February gale wasin full progress and was forcing every citizen whether comfortably housedor uncomfortably out in it, to stand at attention and listen to itsshrieking iterations of "a mad night, my masters. "

But to be quite accurate, the state of the weather had nothing whateverto do with the state of Hayden's mind. Let it be said, by way ofexplanation, that since his return to New York, he had been going out sosteadily, accepting so many invitations, meeting so many people, pursuingthe social game so ardently, that the thought of a quiet evening at home, recommended itself very alluringly to his imagination, and by sheervirtue of contrast, assumed almost the proportions of an excitingdiversion. 

Tatsu had, as usual, deftly, silently and with incredible rapidityarranged everything for his comfort; and his leisurely dinner completed, Robert settled himself for a long solitary evening undisturbed by any mendropping in to interrupt his meditations, or by any vagrant desires towander out. The gale precluded both possibilities. It had risen to itsheight now, and filled the air with the steady roar of artillery. Greatdashes of rain spattered sharply against the window panes, and Haydenwould lift his head to listen and then sink back more luxuriously thanever into the depths of his easy chair. It was the sort of night tothrow, occasionally, another log on the fire and watch the flames dancehigher--illuminate with their glowing radiance the dim corridors and thevast and stately apartments of a _Chateau en Espagne_. What an additionthose new pictures are to the noble gallery! And the vast library withthe windows opening on the Moorish court! But some of the tapestries needrenovating, those priceless tapestries!

[Illustration]

Then, surfeited with gazing on so much beauty and splendor, one turns tomore homely comforts, and while the logs sink to a bed of glowing ashes, dreams over one's favorite essays, or skims the cream of the last newnovel. 

It was such an evening as this that Hayden had planned; but plans, asimmemorial experience has taught us, but never quite convinced us, "gangaft a-gley, " and Robert's were no exception to the rule. Between him andthe open page before him, he saw continually the face of Marcia Oldham. The sweet, wistful, violet eyes gazed earnestly at him, the delicatelycut mouth with the dimple in one corner smiled at him and his bookpresently dropped from his fingers and lay unheeded on the rug while hedreamed dreams and saw visions. Gradually, his thoughts wandered from thefuture and its hopes to the past, and for the first time since his returnthe old wanderlust stole over him, the wanderlust temporarily lulled andquiescent, but always there, that passion for change which was sointegral a part of his nature. But he no longer wished for new sceneswith no companionship but that of a man friend or so, he dreamed insteadof a season of wandering with Marcia, with her to travel the uncharted, with her to "follow October around the earth. " He wondered if the lovelylady of the silver butterfly cared only to breathe the air of cities, orif she, like himself, delighted in gazing upon the strange andunaccustomed, in getting, "Out in the world's wide spaces, Where the sky and the desert meet, Where we shake from our feet all traces Of the dust of the city street?"

He believed she did. He could not be so strongly conscious of some secretand indefinable sympathy existing between them if their tastes were notsimilar. Ah well, whatever her tastes might be he could gratifythem, --providing, of course, that she chose to look kindly upon him, andif things only came his way, a little, just a little, and surely he hadreason to be gratified by the turn events had taken since he had come toNew York. 

He had, of course, taken a chance in telling Horace Penfield as much ashe had about The Veiled Mariposa, the lost mine on which he had foundedhis hopes. Hayden drew his shoulders up to his ears and pulled down thecorners of his mouth, the picture of a school-boy convicted of stealingjam. He had had reason on many occasions to convict himself of suchindiscretions. He reflected a little dolefully, that he would probably bea very poor business man, that is, if business depended on caution and alack of confidence in his fellow-beings. But, bent on cheering himself, even if Horace should break faith with him and prattle to the limit--andHorace's limit was a long one, the blue canopy of heaven, when it came togossip--what possible harm could it do? In fact, it might serve Haydenimmeasurably, for the talk might reach the ears of those who held someinterest in the property and thus get him into immediate communicationwith them. In any event, let Horace gossip as he would, it could do nopossible injury, for Robert held the key of the situation with hiscarefully drawn maps and his many photographs. Blessings on his camera!

There was a wild dash of hail against the window, a shriek of the wind, and Hayden looked up surprised at the interruption and then fell againinto his reverie. What an odd thing that had been for Penfield to say, that about hearing of the Veiled Mariposa, and how remarkably it had beenconfirmed. From a source, too, that he would least have expected it. Thatprophecy had certainly been literally fulfilled. Little Kitty Hampton wasthe last person he should have expected to mention The Veiled Mariposa. 

A Fortune-teller! The Veiled Mariposa! There was, there could be noquestion of coincidence here. It was design, beyond all peradventure, anddesign he meant very speedily to fathom. Hayden set his nice, square jawfirmly, and when Hayden set his jaw that way, you might look for thingsto happen. He might be over-impulsive and lacking in caution, but he hadplenty of initiative, pluck and determination. Then, his face relaxed andsoftened. He threw his cigarette into the bed of ashes on the hearth andstretched his arms above his head. Ah-h-h! He felt like Monte Cristo. Surely, surely, the world was his. Had he not, all in the space of a fewweeks, found his heart's love, and a clue to his fortune?

Again, he started, but this time not at the storm which seemed to bedying down a bit, but at a sharp ring from the telephone on a desk at theother side of the room. 

"The deuce!" exclaimed Hayden getting on his feet. "Who on earth iscalling me such a night as this?" He walked over and lifted the receiverwith the usual curt, "Hello!"

"Is this Mr. Hayden's apartment?" asked a voice which made him start. Itwas low, full, deliciously musical and with an unmistakable Spanishaccent. 

"Yes, and this is Mr. Hayden speaking, " was Robert's response, with alightning change of tone. A quick, excited thrill of interest ran overhim. He strove to place that voice, ransacked his memory in the effort todo so, but quite in vain. He was, however, in spite of such swift, momentary precautions, absolutely convinced that he was listening tothose enchanting tones for the first time. "Who is this speaking?" heasked. But only a burst of low, rippling laughter with a faint hint ofmockery in it reached him. 

"I'm afraid I'm rude enough to insist upon maintaining my incognitoto-night, " was the demure answer. 

"But that puts me at once at a disadvantage, " protested Hayden. 

"Naturally, " the laughter in her voice was irresistible now. "That iswhere a man ought to be. "

"That is where he usually is anyway, " he remarked. "But you must admitthat there is something awfully uncanny about a situation like this. Onso wild a night one would be justified in expecting almost any kind of aghostly visitant. "

"Bar them out, " she advised. "Remember Poe's Raven who still is sitting, never flitting, on the pallid bust of Pallas, just above the chamberdoor. "

Hayden glanced up involuntarily. "There isn't any pallid bust of Pallas, "he announced. "But that jolly old raven's method of paying a visit wascrude and commonplace compared to yours. He came tapping and rapping inthe most old-fashioned way; but you reach me with a wonderful disembodiedvoice through the ever mysterious avenue of the telephone. It reallymakes me creepy. Won't you locate it? Give it a name?"

"Scientists, " she reminded him in her delicious, broken English, "canreconstruct all kinds of extinct animals and birds from one small bone, or a tooth, or a beak, or hoof. "

"So might I, " Hayden valorously asserted, "if I had as much to go on; buta voice is different. "

"Quite beyond your powers, " she taunted. 

"Not at all. I hadn't finished, " Hayden was something of a Gascon atheart, "I will go the scientists one better and reconstruct you from avoice. " He put back his hand and drew up a chair. He was enjoying himselfimmensely. "Now, " impressively, "you are dark, dark and lovely and young, and you are sweet as chocolate and stimulating as coffee. And you wear arose in your hair and silken skirts like poppy-petals, and the tiniest ofblack slippers over white silk stockings; and you flutter an enormous fanthat sends the fragrance of the jasmine on your breast all through theair, and you have a beautiful name--oh a name as enchanting as yourvoice, have you not, Anita, Rosita, Chiquita, Pepita, Carmencita, and allthe rest of it?"

"You are impertinent, much too bold, " she admonished. "I will not talk toyou any more if you are not quite respectful; but the first part of yourdescription was pretty. Let me, if I can, do even half so well. You, señor, are rather tall and quite slender, no superfluous flesh, allmuscle, and your eyes are a dark gray and your hair is brown, so is yourface, by the way; and you have a cool, leisurely sort of manner, althoughyour speech is quite rapid, and you have a charming, oh, a most unusuallycharming smile. "

"But you know me!" cried Hayden naively. "Of course, of course, " as herlaughter swelled, "I know you've flattered me to death, " the red risingin his tanned cheek, "with all that rot about my grin. But, " speakinglouder in the effort to drown those trills and ripples of melodiouslaughter, more elfishly mocking and elusive than ever, "your portrait ofme, no matter how grossly exaggerated, is in the main, correct. "

"Still talking?" droned the menacing voice of Central. 

"But it isn't fair, " Hayden continued to protest to the Unknown. "Youhave me at a disadvantage, and I am going to drop all courtesy and anypretense of good manners. Now, are you ready? Yes? Well then, who are youand what do you want?"

"Who am I? Ah, señor, a waif of the wind, adrift on the night's Plutonianshore; but an hour or two ago, the gale caught me up in Spain and sweptme over the seas. Regard me as a voice, merely a voice that would holdspeech with so distinguished a naturalist. "

"A naturalist!" exclaimed Hayden both disappointed and disconcerted. "Youhave mistaken your man. I can lay no claims to any scientificaccomplishments or achievements. "

"Oh, pardon!" There was an affected and exaggerated horror in her tones. "I have made a mistake, oh, a great mistake. I had fancied that you werea collector of butterflies. "

Hayden nearly dropped the receiver. There was the smallest of pauses andthen he spoke in his accustomed tone, a little cooler and more leisurelythan usual, with some fleeting idea of caution. 

"Ah, yes, yes, I am somewhat interested in that line. But the fact isknown to few. Perhaps you will kindly tell me how you learned of myenthusiasm?"

"Are you quite sure that you may not have mentioned the subject to meyourself. " Her voice was full of subtle emphasis. 

"No, señorita, " he laughed. "That will not do. You can not throw me offthe track that way, by trying to make me doubt my memory. "

"Then, truly, you do not recall the old glad days in Spain?" her voicequestioned incredulously, doubted, took on a little fall ofdisappointment, almost of wounded vanity or sentiment. 

"Señorita, emphatically, no. Had I, in the old glad days in Spain, or theold glad days anywhere else, ever met a woman with a voice like yours, Ishould never have forgotten her in a thousand years. No, señorita. Trysomething else. That will not do. "

"Zip!" There was unmistakable temper in the exclamation. 

"We were speaking of butterflies, " said Hayden, alarmed lest she shouldring him off. "Are you at all interested in that line?"

"Indeed, yes, " she assured him, "although I doubt very much if myinterest is anything like as scientific as yours. I fancy I am moreinterested in them because of their wonderful beauty, than for any moreparticular reason. And what in all the world, señor, is so beautiful asthe butterflies of the tropics? Do you remember how they come floatingout into the sunlight from the dark mysterious depths of the forests?Such colors! Such iridescence on their wings; but the most beautiful ofall are the great gray ones, señor, the silver butterflies. "

Again Hayden started violently and again succeeded in controlling thesurprise her words aroused in him. "I quite agree with you, " he saidpolitely. "The silver butterfly is one of the most beautiful of all thetropical varieties. "

"Yes, truly. " Again there was the hint of irresistible laughter in thelady's tones. "But there is a curious little fact that I fancy very fewof you naturalists know, and that is that it is not confined absolutelyto the tropics. Doubt the assertion if you will, but I make it calmly: I, señor, with my own eyes have seen silver butterflies at New York, and inthe most unlikely places; oh, places you would never dream of, the opera, for instance. "

"You surprise me!" Hayden was prepared for anything now, and his voicewas carefully indifferent, almost drawling; but his mind was working likelightning. What on earth could this mean? Was it a possibility that itmight be Marcia, --Marcia Oldham herself, thus cleverly disguising hervoice? No, no, a thousand times, no. He hastily rejected the thought. Even if she possessed the skill--nevertheless the very tones themselvesrevealed a woman of a totally different type and temperament. 

"I am so anxious to see your collection, " continued the rich, warmly-colored voice. "I am wondering if you have been able to secure aspecimen of a very rare butterfly indeed, one which some naturalistsbelieve is quite extinct. It is called 'The Veiled Mariposa. '"

Hayden felt as if in some peculiar, intuitive sort of way, he hadexpected this from the first. For a moment or two, he could not controlhis excitement. His mouth felt curiously dry, and he noticed that hishand was trembling. 

"I--I think I have heard of it, " he said at last, and objurgated himselffor his stammering banality. 

"But, " and the word seemed to express a pout, "I understood that it wasin your collection. "

"Ah, one must not trust too much to report and rumor, " Hayden remindedher. 

"Then it is not in your collection?" she persisted. 

"Señorita, my collection is a large one. " He smiled amusedly at thethought of this hypothetical collection, and the grandiloquent tone inwhich he referred to it. "I can not say, offhand, just what varieties itcontains. "

"True, " assented the voice reasonably, and Hayden felt that its possessorwas probably a person who was reasonable when one would naturally expecther to be capricious, and capricious when one would naturally expect herto be reasonable. "True, " she repeated thoughtfully, "I only wanted tosay, señor, that should you find that you have that particular butterfly, I am in touch with certain collectors who would be willing to pay a largeprice for it. "

"I have no desire to sell outright, señorita, please understand that, "Hayden spoke quickly, taking a high tone. "But should I care to consideryour proposition, how am I to communicate with you? Shall I ring upCentral and say: 'Please give me the delicious voice?'"

"Ah, señor, you are of an absurdity! Never fear, you will hear from meagain, and soon. Good-by. " Her voice died away like music. 

Hayden mechanically hung up the receiver, and then sat for a moment ortwo staring rather stupidly before him. At last, he shook his head andlaughed in whimsical perplexity: "Who would ever have considered New Yorkthe haunt and home of mystery?" he murmured. "Every day connects me witha new one, and the charming ladies who seem involved in them apparentlytake delight in leaving me completely in the air, suspended, likeMahomet's coffin, 'twixt Heaven and earth, with the pleasing promise thatI shall hear from them again--and soon. "

CHAPTER VII

An afternoon or two later, having perfected a little plan in his mind, Hayden again called on his cousin to be informed that she was not athome. Kitty, he reflected, was never at home when any one wanted to findher. Therefore, with time on his hands, he turned into the Park anddecided to stroll there for an hour or so. It was an almost incrediblymild afternoon for the season of the year, mild and soft and gray; theleafless boughs of the trees upheld the black irregular network of theirtwigs against the gray sky, with its faint, dull reflection of sunsetgold, and the twilight brooded in the mists on the edge of distance as ifit awaited the hour to send its gray veils floating over the face of theearth. 

Hayden walked slowly, and in this direction or that as his fancydictated. It was not an afternoon for violent exercise; but for loiteringand reverie. Presently, he looked up from his musings, to see, to hisinfinite surprise and delight, Marcia Oldham approaching him down atwilight vista with the gold behind her. 

She, too, was influenced by the day and the hour, for she seemed to walkin a dream, and came quite near him without seeing him. She was all inblack, and her furs, also black, were slipping from her shoulders, whileher muff dangled from a cord about her wrist. Hayden thought she looked alittle tired and certainly pale; but that might have been due to theblack hat and the lace veil she had thrown back from her face the betterto enjoy the air. 

She came quite close to him before she saw him, and as she lifted hereyes and met his she started slightly, a start of unmistakable amazement, and as it seemed to him, although perhaps this was but the reflection ofhis hopes, of pleasure. 

"I began to fear that we were never going to meet again, " he said afterthey had exchanged the conventional greetings, and he had asked and hadreceived permission to walk with her in whatever direction she might betaking. 

"I have been away for a week, " she answered, "and there has been a numberof things to see to since my return. I have been very busy. You know Ihave a studio away from my home where I paint all day. Your cousin hasbought a number of my pictures. "

"She spoke of them. I am anxious to see them; and I knew you were away, "he said. "I knew it psychologically. The town was full of people and yet, at the same time, it was very empty. " That faint and lovely carnation onher cheek! "And Kitty Hampton told me that you had been away with her, "he rather tamely concluded. 

"Yes, " she said, it seemed to him indifferently. Then with a change oftone, as if warning him from dangerous ground: "How absurd ouracquaintance has been!"

"Does it strike you so?" he asked sadly. "To me it is the mostdelightful, the most beautiful thing that ever happened. "

"I should not be at all surprised, " she said calmly, almost too calmly, and with premeditated irrelevance, "if Kitty and Bea were both of themawaiting me now. " His boldness was incapable of ruffling her composure;but, nevertheless, he saw with a secret joy the telltale anduncontrollable carnation again fly to her cheek. 

But Hayden had not even approached the limits of his courage. He had beentoo much baffled in his attempts to find her, she had proved too elusivefor him to permit her lightly to slip through his fingers again, as itwere, now, when he had the opportunity to press his claims for furtherrecognition. Should a man who had succeeded more than once through boldbut not displeasing words in causing the scarlet to stain that cheek ofcream, carelessly forgo any chance for future experiment?

"Surely, you won't leave me on your door-step this dreary afternoon, " hepleaded. "I would never have suspected you of such hardness of heart. Why, it amounts almost to--to--brutality, " casting about him for a goodstrong word. "You will pass on into light and warmth and comfort; tea, the cheering cup, and cakes, no doubt cakes, while I am left out in thisgray depressing atmosphere, night coming on, the rain falling--"

"Rain! Oh, nonsense. You have overshot your mark. " She lifted her face tothe sky. "Not a drop, " scornfully. 

He stripped his glove from his hand and held out the bare palm. "Ithought so, " with calm triumph. "A steady drizzle. You don't feel it yetbecause of your hat; but you will presently. It will very shortly turn toa drenching shower; that especial sort of cloud yonder, " waving his sticktoward the west, "always indicates a drenching shower. Oh, " in answer toher incredulous smile, "you can't tell me anything about weatherconditions, I've lived too much in the open not to be thoroughlyconversant of them. So you see I know what I'm talking about when I saythat a woman who would leave a man on a door-step on an afternoon likethis is the kind that would shut up the house and go away for the summerleaving the cat to forage for itself. "

"But think of your nice warm apartment, and the subways and street-carsand taxicabs and hansoms which will swiftly bear you thither. "

His glance was a reproachful protest. "Every form of conveyance you havementioned is drafty. Coming from the hot climates I have lived in solong--" He paused and coughed tentatively. "But what is the use of allthis thrust and parry?" pressing his advantage. "Are you or are you notgoing to give me a cup of tea?"

At this very direct question, the laughter, the gaiety vanished from herface. She looked thoughtful and seemed to consider so trivial a matterquite unnecessarily. Then, apparently arriving at a sudden decision, shesaid with a sort of sweet, prim courtesy: "I should be very glad to haveyou come in with me and meet my mother. I think it is very probable thatwe will find Kitty, and perhaps Bea, there before us. "

"Thank you very much, " he said, with equal formality. "I very muchappreciate your letting me come. "

The remainder of their walk he found delightful. Marcia was pleased tothrow off, in a measure, the reserve, the absorption which seemed almosthabitual with her, and she chatted with him frankly, occasionally evenplayfully, as they strolled along. 

"Why, " he asked her curiously, "did you put that hypothetical question tome that evening at the Gildersleeve, about the young woman living in thecountry and sending her astral body on little visits to town?"

"I don't know, I'm sure, " she laughed. "It often amuses me to indulge inlittle fanciful flights like that. "

"I think you were purposely trying to mystify me, " he said. "You saw thatI was going to be a bore and you pretended to be a ghost, trusting toyour noiseless and mysterious manner of appearing and disappearing towork on my fears and frighten me off. And, truth to tell, there issomething uncanny about your peculiarly soundless and rustlelessmovements. "

"Oh, absurd!" she cried, the very tips of her ears red. Hayden might wellexult in his ability to make her blush. "How you do romance! The wholesituation was an absolutely simple one. Old Mr. ----" He fancied shecaught her breath sharply, but if it were so she recovered herselfimmediately and went on: "The man with whom I was dining--I had to seehim that evening. He was leaving town. I was leaving him at the stationwhen I bowed to you and Mr. Penfield from the motor, and, as I wassaying, I had to see him before he left on a--a business matter, andnaturally, it was much easier to talk it over with him at theGildersleeve than any place else. "

She smiled as she finished, and Hayden saw more in that smile than sheintended or desired he should. It was in itself a full period, definitelyclosing the subject. It also held resentment, annoyance that she hadpermitted herself to fall into so egregious a blunder as an explanation. 

"Oh, how I love a winter evening like this!" she went on hurriedly. "Oncein a while, they stray into the heart of winter from the sun-warmedautumn, and they get so cold, poor little waifs from Indian Summer, thatthey wrap themselves in all the clouds and mists they can find. Ah, isn'tit soft and dim and sweet and mysterious? The wind sings such an eerielittle song, and the tiny, pale crescent moon is just rising. Look, ithas a ring about it! It will rain to-morrow. Oh, dear!"

They had left the Park a few minutes before and turned in the directionof Riverside Drive, and a short walk brought them to the home in whichMarcia's father had installed his family a few months before the crashcame and his subsequent death. It was a handsome house, within as well aswithout; dark, stately, and sumptuous in effect. The sound of voices andlaughter reached their ears as they ascended the stairs, and when theyentered the drawing-room they found a number of people there before them. 

There was Kitty looking more than ever like a charming, if not very goodlittle boy, and dressed beautifully, if incongruously, in a trailing limpgown of champagne color and wistaria most wonderfully blended, when herface, her figure, the way she wore her hair, seemed to cry aloud forknickerbockers; and there was Bea Habersham in velvet, of the ceriseshade she so much affected, and Edith Symmes suggesting nothing so muchas a distinguished but malevolent fairy, her keen, satirical, sallow facelooking almost livid in contrast with a terrible gown which she spoke ofwith pride as "this sweet, gaslight-green frock of mine. "

"Mother, Mr. Hayden has come in with me for a cup of tea. He doesn't knowyet that you make the very best tea in all the world. " Marcia's voice, inspeaking to her mother, seemed to take on an added gentleness. It struckHayden that so she might speak to a small child. 

Mrs. Oldham greeted Hayden most graciously, but he could not fail tonotice that she turned to her daughter with an indefinable displeasure inboth glance and manner. She was a small woman, barely as high as Marcia'sshoulder; a surprise always, when noted, for the carriage of her head andshoulders gave the impression of her being above medium height; she hadevidently been an extremely pretty creature of the Dresden-china type, and she still bore the manner and assurance of beauty, fortifying thismental attitude by a genius for dress. Thus she succeeded in maintainingan illusion perfectly satisfactory to herself, if not quite to others, for it was rather a hungry beast of an illusion and demanded constantoblation and sacrifice. 

Her hair, like Marcia's, was dark with the same loose and heavy waves, and her features exhibited the same delicate regularity; but the strengthand sweetness of character so marked in the daughter's face were lackingin the mother's. Two rather striking blemishes on the older woman'sbeauty, a wandering eye and a scar on the soft cheek, she took her ownpeculiar method of ignoring, thus completely and effectively discountingany unfavorable opinion in the mind of the beholder. Consequently, shefrequently referred to them, never as blemishes, but as slight butsignificant evidences of a distinctive and distinguished individuality. 

"Oh, Marcia! What a dream of a hat!" cried Kitty. "And new. It's a HenriDondel or a Carlier. "

Marcia laughed her gentle and charming laugh. "Yes, it's new and I'm soglad you like it. "

"New, new, new, " said her mother petulantly. "It's something new everyday. I never saw such a spendthrift. It's a good thing my wants are sofew. "

Marcia did not appear to hear this, and almost immediately her attentionwas taken up by the entrance of Wilfred Ames, big, stolid andgood-looking, while hard upon his heels followed Horace Penfield. 

Mrs. Oldham, seeing that Penfield had gravitated toward the three women, Edith Symmes, Kitty and Bea, and that Ames had drawn Marcia a littleapart, urged Hayden to come and sit beside her tea-table and let her brewhim a cup of fresh tea. 

"It's really a rest for me, Mr. Hayden, " she said pathetically, "fortruly, it is very little rest I get. This big house to look after--Marciais not the least assistance to me in housekeeping--and a daughter on one'smind. " She sighed heavily. "It is enough to make Mr. Oldham turn over inhis grave if he could see all the care and responsibility that is thrownon my shoulders. He couldn't endure the thought of such a thing. Healways said to me: 'Those little feet were made to tread on flowers. ' Hewas so absurd about my feet, you know. Not that they are anythingremarkable; but I'm from the South, Mr. Hayden, and it's only naturalthat I should have beautiful feet. 

"But then, as I often told him, he was just so constituted that he couldsee nothing in me but absolute perfection. Why, do you know, one of myeyes has a slight, oh, a very slight defect, you have probably notnoticed it. Well, we had been married for years before he ever saw it. Ihappened to mention it and he simply would not believe me until Iconvinced him by standing before him in a very strong light with my eyeswide open. Do let me give you a little more tea. No? Then some sugar orlemon, just to freshen up a bit what you have. How handsome Marcia andWilfred look standing together, she is so dark and he is so fair. He is adear fellow and so steady and sedate. I love him like a son, and Iconsider his influence over Marcia excellent. 

"She is, of course, the dearest thing in the world to me, Mr. Hayden. Youwill understand that, but I feel a mother's solicitude, and she hascertain traits which I fear may become exaggerated faults. She isinclined to be head-strong, heedless, wilful, and I'm afraid, sweet asMrs. Hampton and Mrs. Habersham are--dear girls! I love them like my owndaughters--that they encourage Marcia in her defiance of proper authorityand her dreadful extravagance. But, " sighing, "she is young and prettyand she does not think; although Mr. Oldham used often to say: 'Marciawill never have her mother's beauty. ' What do you think of such anabsurdity?"

"I think if Diogenes had met Mr. Oldham he would have blown out his lightand gone back to the seclusion of his bath-tub for the rest of his life. "

"Oh!" Mrs. Oldham looked puzzled. "Oh, Diogenes! Oh, yes, searching foran honest man. Mr. Hayden, what a charming thing of you to say! I mustremember that, and so witty, too! Edith dear, " as Mrs. Symmes approachedthem, "you can't fancy what a wit Mr. Hayden is. "

"Oh, yes, I can, " returned Mrs. Symmes, "and that is the reason I havecome to drag him away from you. Here is Mr. Penfield to take his place, and tell you a lot of new scandals all springing directly from the sevendeadly old sins. Come and sit on the sofa with me, Mr. Hayden. "

"Rescued!" he muttered feebly when they had sat down in a remote corner. "I had an idea that I was never going to escape, that it would run on forever and ever. "

"Poor Marcia!" murmured Mrs. Symmes, glancing toward the window whereMarcia and Ames stood, still engrossed in conversation. "And poorWilfred! You haven't seen his Old Man of the Sea yet--meaning hismother?"

"No, is she, too, a Venus with a bad eye?"

"Quite the reverse. " Faint sparkles of amusement came into her eyes, amusement which was always touched with a slight malice. "Mr. Hayden, some people are coming to take luncheon with me next Wednesday, I maycount on you, may I not?"

"Indeed, yes, " he assured her. "I should like nothing better. "

She rose and he with her. Every one was doing the same. With a purposewhich had been maturing in his mind during the last hour, Haydenapproached Kitty and Marcia, who stood together talking in low tones asKitty caught her furs about her. 

"Miss Oldham, " Hayden's voice was delightfully ingratiating, "don't youor Kitty want to give me the address of this wonderful fortune-teller, Mademoiselle Mariposa?"

"But you said you took no interest in such things, " Kitty spoke quickly. "You insisted that they were all fakers and frauds. Why do you want to gonow?"

"But I have an idea that I have met the lady, " he asserted. 

Marcia gave a quick start; but Kitty laughed. "I defy you to pierce herdisguise, " she asserted, "and tell whether you have met her or not, unless, of course, she acknowledges the acquaintance. I will telephoneyou her address the moment I reach home. I do not remember the number. "

CHAPTER VIII

Kitty was as good as her word and telephoned her cousin the address ofMademoiselle Mariposa that evening, --a fact that rather surprised Hayden, as he had a sort of indefinable idea that she would conveniently forgether promise. 

On his part, he lost no time in seeking the Mariposa, calling at herapartment the next morning, only to be informed by a particularly trimand discreet maid that her mistress received no one save by appointment. Therefore, bowing to the inevitable with what philosophy he could summon, he went home and wrote a note to the seeress, requesting an earlyinterview and signing an assumed name. He was gratified to receive ananswer, dictated, the next morning in which Mademoiselle Mariposa statedthat she would be pleased to receive him at three o'clock in theafternoon, on the following Thursday. Thursday, and this was Tuesday. Twodays farther away than he desired, but there was nothing to do but curbhis impatience, and he set about occupying his mind and incidentally histime until Thursday. 

Fortunately, he discovered in glancing over his list of engagements thata number of events dovetailed admirably, thus filling up the hours, andamong them was Edith Symmes' luncheon on Wednesday. He heaved a sigh ofrelief that there were enough things on hand to give time wings, even ifartificial ones, when it seemed bent on perversely dragging leaden feetalong the ground. In consequence he betook himself to Mrs. Symmes' houseon Wednesday with more eagerness than he would otherwise have shown hadhe not regarded her luncheon as a time-chaser. 

Mrs. Symmes had been early widowed. Her experience of married lifeincluded a bare two years, her husband living a twelve-month longer thanthe friends of both had predicted. He was, so it was rumored, a charmingfellow of rare artistic taste and discrimination, a dilettante, and aconnoisseur of all things beautiful. So sensitively was he organized thatinharmonies or discords of color, or any lack of artistic perceptionaffected him acutely, often to the verge of illness, and alwaysirritation. Although he permitted his wife no voice in the decoration andfurnishing of either town or country house, almost desperately withheldit from her in fact, he could not control or even influence her taste indress, and there were those who did not hesitate to whisper that Edith'scostumes alone were quite sufficient to have caused his death. 

After that event, Mrs. Symmes endured the low-toned harmonies of herhusband's faultless taste for six months, and then declaring herenvironment depressing to her spirits, she refurnished the house fromgarret to cellar, perpetrating crimes in decoration which made thehorrors of her toilets seem mere peccadillos. 

Hayden was soon to realize this, for on arriving at her home on Wednesdayhe was shown to a drawing-room large in size but crowded with furniture. Little tables, chairs, footstools, anything which would serve as astumbling-block, seemed to be placed in the direct path of the guestadvancing toward his hostess. 

Robert, seeing that it behooved him to walk as delicately as Agag, reached Mrs. Symmes without misadventure, and after exchanging the usuallight-weight coin of conventional greeting, looked about him for afamiliar face. Most of the people he knew only casually; but presently, he spied Mrs. Habersham and made his way toward her as rapidly as themanifold objects in his path permitted. 

She was, as usual, in one of the shades of American Beauty, which she somuch affected, and which were admirably suited to her, giving depth andopulence, the rich restfulness of color to her too sharply defined andrestless beauty. Upon her breast was her silver butterfly and theenameled chains were about her throat. 

"I have walked twice across this room, " said Hayden triumphantly, aftershaking hands with her, "and I haven't fallen once. If I came here oftenI should bring an ax, notch the furniture and then clear a path. Theregoes some one!" as a heavy stumble was heard. "I did better than that. "

"Don't boast. Remember that it's the wicked who stand in slipperyplaces, " said Bea, with meaning. "But indeed, I am glad you got here. There is some distorted, goggle-eyed Chinese monster at my elbow, and onthe table before me is an ornament which chills the marrow of my bones. Idare not look up. "

Hayden gazed bravely about him. "I don't think I ever saw such a hideousroom in my life, " he said slowly and with conviction. 

"There is only one room in the world uglier, " Bea assured him, "and thatis the dining-room; but they do say that the wall-paper in her bed-roomis of a bright scarlet, with large lozenges representing green and blueparrots swinging in gilded cages. "

Hayden laughed and shivered. "It takes strong nerves, " he said. "Do yousuppose there are people who come often?"

"Oh, dear me, yes, " returned Mrs. Habersham. "One would dine in Infernoif the food were good. Her table is as perfect as her house and gowns aredreadful, and then Edith herself is very clever and amusing. Here shecomes. "

"The cause of this delay, " smiled Mrs. Symmes in passing, "is Mrs. Ames. I'll give her just one minute more. "

Bea smiled perfunctorily, and then turned on Hayden an alarmed face. "Inever would have come to-day--never, if I had fancied she would bepresent. She will be sure to launch out on Marcia Oldham before luncheonis over. She never misses an opportunity. She has a mania on thesubject. "

Hayden glanced toward the door with curiosity. "Where is this pepper andvitriol old dame?" he asked, with elaborate carelessness. 

"She has not come yet. Did you not hear Edith say that it is she for whomwe are waiting? You will see her in a moment, though. She is always late;but she will come, never fear. "

Her words were prophetic, for at that moment Mrs. Ames hurried into theroom, a wiry, spare old woman with a small hooked nose and a jaw like anut-cracker. The skin of her face was yellow and deeply wrinkled, hereyes were those of a fierce, untamed bird, and she was gowned--swathed isthe more suitable word--in rusty black with a quantity of danglingfringes and many jingling chains. 

Luncheon was announced immediately after her arrival, and to Hayden'sdismay he found that it was served at small tables and that he was placedbetween Mrs. Ames and Mrs. Habersham, with Horace Penfield oppositesmiling in faint satirical glee at the situation. 

"I shall never forgive Edith Symmes for this, never, " was Bea's indignantwhisper in Hayden's ear. "But just the same, I shall not give that oldwitch a chance to air any of her grievances. You'll see. With your helpand cooperation I intend to monopolize the conversation. "

Robert hastily assured her that she could depend on him to the limit ofhis capacities, and together they seized and held the ball ofconversation, occasionally tossing it from one to the other; but neverpermitting it for a moment to fall into either Penfield's or Mrs. Ames'hands. 

Hayden pottered over this incident or that, dawdling through long-windedtales of travel, and when his recollection or invention flagged Mrs. Habersham introduced topics so inimical to Mrs. Ames' frequently airedviews that this lady rose passionately to the fray. Woman's Suffrage, Socialism, the Decline of the Church, Bea, a conservative, flung upon thetable and Mrs. Ames pounced upon them as a dog upon a bone, a radical ofradicals. 

Meantime, Horace Penfield had sat enjoying his luncheon with a coolplacidity, and listening with a smile of faint amusement to the argumentswhich surged and eddied about him. He looked for the most partindifferent, although, perhaps, he was only patient. 

At last, in an unguarded moment Mrs. Habersham paused for breath, and inthe brief ensuing silence Penfield entered the conversation like a thinsharp wedge. 

"What a fad those butterflies are among you lovely ladies, " he said toMrs. Habersham. "But yours are paler than most of them, more opaline. Why?"

"Because I wear red so frequently, " she replied indifferently. "Thepurple and yellow butterflies would look horrid with my crimson frocks. "

"I really think, " said Penfield slowly, meeting her eyes with a cool, blank gaze, "that, saving your presence, Mrs. Habersham, Marcia Oldhamhas by far the handsomest set I have seen. "

At this red rag, purposely fluttered as Hayden felt before the eyes ofMrs. Ames, that lady sniffed audibly and tossed her head, emitting at thesame moment a faint, contemptuous cackle. 

"Oh, no, " Bea assured him with languor, although the scarlet burned inher cheek. "Marcia's are nothing to compare to Mrs. ----, " mentioning thename of the London actress. 

"Oh, I must differ from you. " Penfield was suavely positive. "I amsurprised that you should say that, for Miss Oldham's are quite the mostartistic I have seen. "

"Naturally Miss Oldham would have the handsomest set in the market, wouldn't she?" queried Mrs. Ames in what no doubt was intended to be atone of innocent inquiry. 

"Marcia's taste is very beautiful, " said Mrs. Habersham coldly. 

"And very extravagant, I understand. " Mrs. Ames was started now; therewas no stopping her. "If one wears beautiful things in these days onemust expect to pay for them. "

Mrs. Habersham shrugged her shoulders and turning to Hayden asked himwhen he had last seen his cousin Kitty Hampton; but Mrs. Ames' crackedvoice rose above their low tones. 

"I wish some one would explain to me--perhaps you can, Mr. Penfield--justhow a young woman who hasn't a penny to her name can afford a superbnecklace. Such things could not have occurred in my young days; butdifferent times, different manners. Humph!"

Before Penfield could reply, Bea Habersham leaned across the table andaddressed her clearly: "It seems to me that such imaginary and absurdbehavior would be considered as reprehensible to-day as in the remote erayou mention. "

Mrs. Ames held her lorgnon to her eyes with one withered, yellow hand, each finger covered to the swollen knuckles with diamonds dim with dust, then she dropped it in her lap with another dry cackle and said with acomplete change of tone, as if reverting to some new topic ofconversation:

"Mr. Penfield was speaking of your friend, Miss Oldham, a moment or twoago, Mrs. Habersham. Perhaps you will be able to tell me the identity ofthe rather elderly, ordinary-looking man with whom I have seen herseveral times lately?"

It seemed to Hayden that Bea's face grew a shade paler, but his momentaryapprehension gave way to a swift admiration for her poise, the casual andcareless indifference with which she answered:

"I am sure I can't imagine, Mrs. Ames. Marcia has many friends, more Ifancy than you dream of. " He also felt a swift longing to take HoracePenfield by the scruff of his thin, craning neck and drop him from thewindow instead of permitting him to sit there calmly sipping his liqueurwith that faint, amused smile as of gratified malice about his lips. 

Then he drew a breath of relief. Every one was rising. 

"You were magnificent, " he whispered as he drew aside for Bea to pass. 

She smiled gratefully at him. "Thank goodness, it's to be bridge now andnot conversation. "

A few minutes later they were all seated at the card-tables and exceptfor the occasional low-toned voicing of the conventions of the game, agrateful silence reigned. 

But at the close of the afternoon, just as they were leaving, Bea askedHayden if he would not drive down-town with her and let her drop him athis apartment. He accepted gladly, hoping in the brief intimacy of thedrive homeward together that she would speak of Marcia. 

But for a season, Mrs. Habersham cared only to discuss the scene they hadjust left; the fortunes of the game; the excellencies of this player, theatrocities of that; the eccentricities of their hostess and herapparently ineradicable passion for ugliness. 

"It is true, " she assured him, "about the red paper and the green andblue parrots in gilt cages; a woman who has seen it swore upon herhonor. "

They had by this time turned into the Park, and Bea leaned forward toinhale the fresher air. Night was falling fast; the spreadinglawn-spaces, the dense shrubbery, the irregularly disposed trees were nolonger distinct, but melted together, indistinguishable and unfeaturedblurs in the deepening twilight. 

Bea drooped her brow on her hand and sat in silence for a few moments. Then she turned to Hayden, her lips compressed, her hands clasped tightlytogether. 

"Isn't it awful! Isn't it dreadful!" she cried. "To think of that oldwitch of Endor saying all those horrible untrue things about poor lovelyMarcia, and worse, spreading them broadcast?"

Hayden lifted his chin in quick determination. "Mrs. Habersham, I can notbe ignorant of what you refer to. I have, to my annoyance"--he hesitatedand then deliberately chose another word--"to my pain, heard varioushints and innuendoes before of the same kind. Now, why is this? Justmalice, envy, jealousy? Why"--his indignation vibrated through hisvoice--"should one so lovely, so above reproach, as Miss Oldham, be thevictim of that sort of thing?"

"Because, " said Bea bitterly, "Marcia attends strictly to her ownbusiness and does not request any advice or permit any interference. Oh, Mr. Hayden, it is useless to tell you what a dear she is. I know fromwhat you have just said that you do, you must admire her. No one couldhelp it, " she added, with a simple and loyal conviction. "So you mayunderstand how difficult it is for us who love her, for the very few ofus who are in some measure in her confidence, to have to accept the factthat there are certain things in her life which appear odd, which arenot--" She broke off, looking at him uncertainly. 

"Mrs. Habersham--" Hayden had turned about in his seat so that he couldgaze more directly at her, and now, although his face had grown pale, hesmiled down upon her his charming smile. "Mrs. Habersham, let me gofurther and tell you that I have never met a woman in my life toward whomI have felt as I do toward Miss Oldham. Why not put it frankly and tellyou the exact truth? I love her. "

Bea's eyes brightened delightedly and then grew a little sad. "Isuspected as much, " she said gently, "and yet, I hardly knew whether youhad the courage or not. Now, " impulsively moving nearer to him, "I willbe as frank as you have been. Nothing in all the world, nothing wouldplease me half so much as for you and Marcia to love each other. I don'tknow you awfully well, Mr. Hayden, and yet, " she laughed, "I do in a way. True, we have only met a few times; but for many years I have been wellacquainted with Kitty's 'Bobby, ' But, " and her dark eyes smiled on himwith a soft shining in their depths, "I think that just now when there isall this unkind whispering it is a beautiful and courageous thing for youto love Marcia, and I want to assure you that all the support I can giveto your cause is yours. "

Her ungloved hand lay on her knee, and Hayden lifted it and lightlykissed it. "Dear lady, " he began, his voice a little broken. 

"Oh, wait!" She lifted the same hand in admonition. "My support may notamount to anything. Reserve your gratitude. Marcia is extremely reticentabout her own affairs, but, nevertheless, I can give you a crumb ofcomfort. No matter what every one says, I am sure that she and WilfredAmes are not engaged and that she does not begin to see as much of him aspeople think; and I do know"--again her voice was shaken withindignation--"that there wouldn't begin to be as much of this unpleasanttalk if it were not for his mother's wicked, frantic fears. Why, whatdoes she wish? She might be glad, proud to have such a daughter-in-law asMarcia. Oh, Mr. Hayden, I can't talk about it. It makes me too angry. "

"Mrs. Habersham"--Hayden spoke with that quiet, forceful determinationwhich was under all his impulses the real key-note of his character--"Idesire nothing so much in the world as to be of assistance to MissOldham. Can't we"--his smile had never been more winning--"can't we clearaway these cobwebs of mystery which surround her?"

"Ah, " cried Bea Habersham, tears in her eyes, "we who love her all longto do that. "

"Then you will help me?"

"Oh, you give me hope that it is a possibility, " with one of her radiantchanges of mood. "But, " and she fell again into depression, "I can nothelp you. You must do it all, all yourself. "

CHAPTER IX

Even to the impatient heart of youth the longed-for, entreated to-morrowcomes with a suddenness which has its elements of shock. The Thursdaywhich Hayden had regarded as so remote was actually here, and he, openinghis eyes to the fact after a sound night's rest, was aware of that faintshrinking which comes to us all in that moment of embarkation upon theunknown and uncharted. 

This day, he felt, was to be a day of revelations; in an hour, a moment, he might, nay he was sure that he would, learn certain facts, touchcertain clues which might change and direct his whole future existence. As he dressed he caused the various circumstances of the past few weeksto marshal themselves in orderly array and pass in review before him. 

He, by some irony of chance, had been so fortunate as to discover thewonderful lost Mariposa, the Veiled Mariposa; but although a vast fortunelay before his eyes, within his grasp, he was withheld from profiting bythis strange stumble upon Golconda by the intangible potent arm of thelaw. And all his diligent efforts to find the owners of the property hadbeen in vain. Then he had come to New York, largely to enjoy along-anticipated vacation, and before he had had time to make definiteplans and decide upon the best methods of prosecuting his search for theowners of the mine, he heard, by the merest chance, of a fortune-tellerwho called herself Mariposa and who always appeared veiled. This fancifulsymbolism might of course be the merest coincidence; but Hayden could notso view it. It was too significant not to smack of design. 

And then, by another curious turn of the wheel, he had met a strange andlovely lady with a chain of jeweled butterflies about her throat, a greatsilver butterfly upon her breast. What significance could be attached tothem? Apparently none. They seemed the fad of several great ladies and avery beautiful and extravagant fad; but what was the inner meaning, ifindeed there was any? Yet, look at the matter dispassionately as hewould, he could not rid himself of the idea that these delicatelyfashioned, fluttering things had a significance. Well, perhaps the daywould disclose it. There was no use in his attempting to arrive at asolution of these enigmas. He could but await the pleasure of destiny. And further, there was that mysterious telephone message, a stillunsolved enigma. Daily, he had waited for another message from the goldenvoiced unknown, but so far, all his waiting and hoping had met with abarren reward. 

Then his thoughts reverted to his conversation with Mrs. Habersham, andhis heart rose buoyantly with hope. She had, at least, assured him of onething, and that was that there was nothing definite in these reports ofMarcia's engagement to Wilfred Ames; and there were secret intimationsprompted not of his vanity, but of a belief in the sympatheticunderstanding existing between Marcia and himself, which confirmed him inhis determination to make the most of a fighting chance. 

He managed, with these reflections, his correspondence and the variousdetails of some business matters, to pass the morning; but when at threeo'clock he made his way to the Mariposa's apartment he found himself tohis own disgust in an unwonted state of excitement, which, as usual withhim, revealed itself only in a more calm and leisurely demeanor; but whenon stepping from the elevator he realized that his hands were like ice, he was for the moment irritated at his lack of nerve, and then he quicklybolstered himself up with the reflection that the day of destiny comesonly once in a lifetime and one would have arrived at a state ofvegetable stolidity to meet it unmoved. Then he laughed at himself forclinging so obstinately to the belief that this was the day of hisdestiny, and this laughter cleared his mental atmosphere. He was himselfagain, in command of his self-assurance and good spirits. 

His ring was answered immediately by the trim maid who conducted himthrough a narrow hall and into a small reception-room where she requestedhim to wait while she informed her mistress of his presence. 

Left alone he glanced curiously about him. There was certainly no mysteryhere. The room was agreeably light and sunshiny. It was furnished withseveral comfortable chairs, and a large round table in the center of theroom. Upon this were scattered some of the latest magazines surrounding avase of fresh and fragrant flowers. 

Hayden turned over the pages of one of the books for a moment and thenthe dark-eyed, rosy, white-capped maid reappeared and announced thatMademoiselle Mariposa would see him at once. 

A few paces down the narrow hall, she drew aside the curtain before thedoor of mademoiselle's consulting-room, and stood aside for Hayden toenter, letting the portière fall noiselessly behind him. But Robertinstead of advancing and taking a chair, although there was none toinvite him to do so, for the room was empty, stood transfixed upon thethreshold, almost open-mouthed. 

Ah, here was the atmosphere he had so sadly missed in the small parlor. This room was large, and it seemed to one entering it for the first timeto extend indefinitely, for upon the walls, against a soft, low-tonedbackground, were painted the bare trunks and branches of leafless trees, a forest of them apparently, so admirable and so illusive was theperspective. The eye seemed to plunge into interminable forest vistas ofdead leaves covering the ground and even floating on dim, moveless pools. The rounded ceiling was painted with silver-edged clouds, and the onlylight fell from a skylight like a great yellow moon. 

When Hayden finally drew his attention from the walls and ceilingsufficiently to realize that he was not in the autumn woods, he noticedthat this apartment was scantily furnished. Two or three chairs, a smalltable or so. On one of these tables was a bronze tripod upholding acrystal ball and a silk cushion upon which to rest one's hand during apalm-reading. On another table were several astrological charts and smallbooks, presumably works of reference. 

As he still stood motionless there was a slight rustle at the door, thecurtain parted and the Mariposa entered clad as always in her gracefulblack gown, the mantilla and the mask. It was the most effective ofdisguises and yet, it was negatived, nullified by a positive force ofpersonality so unmistakable and definite that the disguise instead ofconcealing served more subtly to reveal and even accentuateindividuality. 

"How do you do, Mr. Hayden?" ignoring the name he had signed to his noteand speaking with a marked Spanish accent meanwhile seating herself atthe table holding the crystal globe. 

"Ah!" cried Hayden, starting forward excitedly. "The waif of the wind!The lovely disembodied voice! How entirely delightful!"

Never had he been more interested and with every moment that passed, hewas experiencing a pleasant sense of reassurance. For days he had beenputting from him the latent but constant fear that Marcia Oldham andMademoiselle Mariposa were identical; but a personal atmosphere isunmistakable, and in spite of her excellent and efficient disguise, Hayden felt instinctively that this was no delicate and wistful violet, but a gorgeous tropical bloom swaying from the tallest trees and exultingin torrid sunshine and fierce tempest. Her voice, too, was deeper andfuller, and the accent was, beyond question, genuine. 

"I am afraid it is impossible to disguise my accent, " she laughed but didnot seem inclined to pursue the subject further. "Do you prefer apalm-reading, the crystal-gazing or both?" she asked, and although thewords were the usual commonplace phrases that she probably repeated adozen times a day, uttered monotonously enough, yet through some vibrant, ringing quality her most ordinary utterances were endued with life. 

"I hardly know, " he said in answer to her question, and falling in withher mood. "What would you advise?"

"Why not try the crystal?" she said. "You will, I am sure, find it moreinteresting. " Without waiting for his answer, she lifted the crystal ballfrom its tripod to the silken cushion, and began intently to gaze intoits depths. 

And now Hayden drew a sigh of intense relief. There was no longer anyground for the shadow of a doubt, for the hands of Mademoiselle Mariposawere not the hands of Marcia Oldham. Marcia's hands, as he hadparticularly noticed, were small and white, with very pink palms, andlong, pointed, rosy-tipped fingers; while this woman's hands were smoothand creamy, the color of old ivory, with square fingers. 

For a few moments there was silence between them, and then thefortune-teller began to speak in low familiar contralto tones, tones sonear the brink of music that one expected trills and ripples of melody. 

"I see mountains, yes, mountains, great bare hills; they change and varyin appearance, but there are always mountains; and I see wide burningdeserts stretching on and on, and now there are forests, dark, impenetrable, vast forests. You have traveled much in foreign lands, señor. Now bridges and railroads, oh quite clearly, and natives--Chinese, blacks, Indians--much work in building railroads in many lands. Ah, clouds, clouds, clouds! Now they clear a little. Oh, señor, it ismountains again, ranges of them. They become more clear, always moreclear, and now your figure. I see you very plainly. You are in themountains. You follow a little trail. It winds curiously among the rocks, twisting, turning, occasionally descending, often doubling on itself. Clouds again, clouds! Ah, now I see you again and in the broad sunshine. You are greatly excited. Your face is white, your eyes are shining--andyour hands are full of nuggets, golden nuggets, free gold, señor; itshines and gleams like fire in the sun. Wonderful! I have rarely had soclear a vision!"

Hayden deliberately leaned forward and lifted the crystal from the silkencushion to its tripod. "I thought so, " he said. "There, mademoiselle, Ibelieve we can talk better with that out of the way. What language do youprefer? English or Spanish?"

She laughed. Airy, full laughter, trembling like her voice on the brinkof music and falling in sparkling cascades into an ocean of melody. "Butyou are bold!" she cried. "Bold as brass. "

"Not at all, " said Hayden politely. "All this crystal-gazing is veryinteresting, very pretty and effective, and serves admirably to show justas much of your hand as you desire me to know. But you forget, mademoiselle, that you revealed your rather wide knowledge of my affairsthe other evening over the telephone. By the way, mademoiselle, it'ssheer curiosity on my part and I beg you to pardon it, " he spoke a littlediffidently, "but why 'mademoiselle' with Mariposa? Why not 'señorita?'"

"Euphony, " she laughed, "nothing more, I assure you. It is more musical. "

"Exactly. But tell me, mademoiselle, shall we not take up matters wherewe dropped them the other evening? You have no objection I hope todiscussing business?"

She appeared to ponder this proposition a moment. "Bah!" she criedsuddenly. "You are right, quite right. It is an opportunity not to bewasted. But one moment, I can not talk with this on. "

She swept off the mantilla and threw it aside. Her brown hair was rolledand twisted in great coils about her head, there were tendrils of itwhich sprang thickly about her brow and neck. The mask which concealedher face was held by a ribbon tied at the back of her head. She pulled atthis but only succeeded in knotting it, and with an exclamation ofimpatience, she bent toward Hayden, murmuring:

"Please, señor. "

He skilfully untied the knot, but while at this occupation the tendrils, shining like gold in the warm, yellow glow of the moon skylight, curledabout his fingers, electric, tingling, leaving a faint, stingingremembrance. 

"Oh, thank you. "

She pulled off the mask and tossed it aside with a long breath of relief, and looked up, encountering Hayden's curious and admiring gaze. In thatmoment of unveiling, he saw before him a lady of high emprise. 

"A diamond-drill of a woman!" cried Robert to himself; and the steel ofhim paid her gallant homage, homage all the more sincere in that sheasked it not, neither craved nor stooped to win it. All she asked was thegame, the game with the odds against her. Cool, resourceful, she wasconcerned with neither doubts nor scruples. To such natures all roadslead to Rome. Before them lie the city of their hopes. That the roads arerocky and beset with unknown perils does not alarm, deter, or evenparticularly interest them. They see only Rome. 

In that brief scrutiny permitted himself by a well-bred man, Haydendecided that she was a Gipsy. Her rather short face, with the full, square chin, was of a clear brown; her intense and vivid eyes were green, a beautiful and rare shade of olive. Her mouth was large, merry andinscrutable, with a particularly short upper lip, a mouth as reckless asMercutio's. It would be difficult to say which impression predominated, beauty or force of character, or if, indeed, one could be disassociatedfrom the other. Divorced from the sheer individuality, the power whichshe expressed in every movement, every line of face and figure, would shehave been beautiful at all?

While Robert considered this question the Mariposa looked at her watch, then touched an electric bell. It was answered by her private secretary, a dark, pale, colorless young woman whom Hayden had not seen before. 

"Eunice, " said the Mariposa carelessly, "I do not wish to be disturbedfor an hour. Whoever calls within that time, tell them that it isimpossible for me to give them a reading to-day. Make other appointmentsfor them at as early a date as possible. That is all. " The depressedyoung woman bowed and withdrew. 

"It is exactly half-after three, Mr. Hayden. " She snapped her watch shut. "Now we can talk. I fancy you are quite right. The crystal really didnot--what do you say--did not, cut very much ice. "

"You think then that, as you suggested the other evening, we shallprobably find an interest in common?" he said. 

"Undoubtedly. Several of them, perhaps. "

He bent nearer. "Including butterflies?" he suggested. 

She showed her white and even teeth. "Including butterflies, " sherepeated. 

"But first, " he said impetuously, "do allay the curiosity which, I assureyou, would otherwise continue to come between me and any business matterswe might discuss. "

She looked at him with an inquiry which held a sort of prescient reserve. He could see that if not actually on guard, she held herself in readinessto be so. 

"What do you mean?"

"You, " he said daringly. "I have sat here watching and waiting to catchyou tripping in that faultless accent of yours. It must be real. I havelived too much in Southern countries to be deceived. "

She looked gratified, her pleasure showing itself in a deepening color. "It was adopted for business purposes, now it has become second nature. I, too, have lived much in Southern countries. The Romany strain, mymother was a Gipsy. You are a brother, Mr. Hayden, if not in blood, inkind. That kind that is so much more than kin. You are here to-day, thereto-morrow. The doom of the wanderer is on you, and the blessing. Take iton the word of a fortune-teller. " She spread out her hands smiling herwide, gay smile with a touch of irony, of feminine experience, theserpent-bought wisdom of Eve in it. "You know what it means to hear thered gods calling, calling; to know that no matter what binds you, whetherwhite arms or ropes of gold, you have to go. "

"You show yourself a true daughter of the road, señorita, and a studentof Kipling. We brothers of the wild are usually not much given to books. "

"That is true, " she assented. "I have heard them say: 'We know cities anddeserts, men and women of every race. What can books give us?' But I tellthem: 'Everything can pay us toll if we ask it. A star in the sky, thetiniest grain of sand on the beach. We can demand their secrets and theywill not withhold them. '" She mused a moment. "One must learn from allsources, knock upon every door. When I weary of gaining wisdom from theant or considering a serpent on the rock, or the way of a man with amaid, why, I turn to books. They are my solace, my narcotics, my friends, and my teachers. I take a few, a very few with me on any rough journey Imay be making; but when I am here or in London or Paris, any place whereI may be living for months at a time, I have my books about me. "

"But why do you tell fortunes?" asked Hayden involuntarily, andimmediately flushed to the roots of his hair. There was the vaguestsomething in her smiling gaze, the merest flicker of an eyelash, whichconvicted him of impertinence. "Forgive me. I--I beg your pardon, " hestammered. 

She ignored his apologies. "Some day I will tell you, " she whispered, going through a pantomime of looking about her cautiously as if it were astate secret of the most tremendous importance. "But we have talkedenough about myself now, señor; the topic for discussion to-day isbutterflies. "

"An interesting subject might be The Veiled Mariposa, " he said. 

"Just so. Why beat about the bush?" He felt that she disdainedsubterfuges, although when necessary for her purposes, he was assuredthat she could use diplomacy, as a master of fence might his foils. "You, Mr. Hayden, have been lucky enough to find the lost Mariposa, the lostVeiled Mariposa. Is it not so? But you are in a peculiarly tantalizingposition. You can not convert gold into gold. Strange. It sounds sosimple. But your hands are tied. "

"Perfectly true, " Hayden assented. 

"Then to put the matter in a nutshell and to descend from metaphor toplain business facts, you can not organize a company and begin to operatethe mine or rather group of mines, for the reason that you can not securea clear title, and what is worse, you have not, so far, succeeded infinding any trace of the present owners. "

"You seem to know a lot about the matter, " said Hayden pleasantly, "butdo you know, I think that you are wrong on one point. I think, indeed Iam quite sure, that I have found the owners, at least one of them. "

"Yes?" Her tone still questioned. "And what then?"

"Well, " he went slowly now, "there are some questions I would like to askthem. They may regard it as an awful impertinence; but it would be a lotof satisfaction to me. "

"What would be the nature of those questions?"

"Among other things"--he still spoke slowly, seeming to consider hiswords--"I should like to ask them why, for years now, they should havelet a valuable property remain idle. Even if they have the wealth ofMidas it is still a puzzle. No one is ever quite rich enough, you know, and down there is Tom Tiddler's ground to their hand. "

"Well, what do you make of it--this puzzle?" She was looking steadily ata ring she was turning about on her finger. 

"This!" He leaned forward. For the life of him he could not keep a faintring of triumph out of his tone. "This, señorita. There is only onereasonable, credible solution--" He paused cruelly. 

"Yes?" Her eyes were on his, eager, almost voracious. "Yes?"

"The present owners can not locate the mine, or else they think it notworth the trouble and expense of attempting to do so. That they haveallowed the estate to lie idle and in a measure go to waste is alsocurious and puzzling. I can not explain that. "

"Admitting such a thing for the sake of argument, " she asked, "whatthen?"

"Well, I think we will have several things to say to each other then. For, if either of my suppositions is anywhere near correct their handsare tied just as much as mine, so I think we shall have to talk business, do not you?"

"I quite agree with you and I should add, the sooner the better. "

"The sooner the better, " he echoed, with emphasis. 

She nodded. Again, she studied her nails, pink as almond-flowers, withinterest. 

"And you really believe, you are quite convinced, that this lost orabandoned mine is all that tradition says of it?" she asked at last. 

"More, " he replied laconically. "I have prospected over every foot of it, and I know that it contains a fortune. A fortune"--he struck the tablewith the palm of his hand--"beyond the dreams of avarice. "

There were dancing sparkles in her green eyes. "Let me congratulate you, 'O gallant knight, gaily bedight, in sunshine or in shadow, ' that youhave been lucky enough to find Eldorado. "

She rose in a sweeping impetuosity, drew up her slender height, and madehim a curtsy, a flower bending buoyantly to the breeze, and springingupright again. 

"But"--two or three sliding steps of the fandango, and then in herchair--"where did you find Eldorado? That's the history a daughter of theroad wants to know. Is it truly 'over the mountains of the moon, down thevalley of the shadow?'"

She swept him along on the tide of her high spirits; her laughter ransilver cascades down to the ocean of melody; her sun-flecked eyes heldthe heart-warming glow, the stimulation of wine. She was a breeze blowingfrom the South. 

"The romance!" she cried. "Behold an anomaly! Some one actually longingfor a traveler's tale. Begin!" Her voice rang imperious, alluring. 

Hayden almost caught at the table, a giddiness of the mind, perhaps ofthe senses, confused him. His face was a shade paler. 

"It is too plain and rough a tale to be told except as a matter ofbusiness. You are kind; but I should not venture to bore you. "

She accepted temporary defeat nonchalantly. "But you"--she did not changeher position even by the movement of a finger, and yet, the wholeexpression of her figure became suddenly tense as a strung bow--"are youso sure that you could ever find your way thither again?"

He looked at her in surprise. "You give me very little credit forordinary common sense, mademoiselle, " he said shortly. "Of course, I madea map, and have any number of photographs. " Immediately, he could havebitten his tongue. 

"Ah, of course, naturally. "

Her indifference, the absent-minded answer reassured him. He did notnotice that her whole figure had relaxed. 

There was a faint tap on the door and the subdued secretary stood on thethreshold. "It is half-after four o'clock, mademoiselle, and your nextclient is waiting. "

Hayden rose. "Time's up, " he said. "But, señorita, when do you think theheirs will be ready to talk business?"

"I think I can promise you an interview within a very short time; and inthe meanwhile I will communicate with you. Oh, by the way, in private anddomestic life, my name is Carrothers, Ydo Carrothers. Y-d-o, " spellingit, "pronounced Edo. "

"Ydo, " he exclaimed. "It is a name made in Spain; in color it is red andyellow, and it smells of jasmine. "

"Yes. " She laughed at his description. "The Romany strain again, yousee. "

"One moment, " he insisted. "How did you know my traveler's tale? Was itPenfield?"

"Never mind. It is sufficient that I know it. Good-by. " She held out herhand. "You can't say I haven't told you a good fortune, can you?"

As Hayden passed through the narrow hall he saw sitting in thereception-room the next client--the gray-haired man with whom Marcia haddined that evening at the Gildersleeve. But a further surprise awaitedhim; for just as he reached the door leading from the apartment the rosyand smiling little maid was admitting Wilfred Ames. Hayden almost raninto him, and Ames, with a stare, muttered a surly recognition and passedon in. 

CHAPTER X

"Quite right. "

Hayden regarded his calendar approvingly. The large red and gold lettersstared at him proclaiming arrogantly: "Every day is the best day of theyear. " And was it not true? Yesterday had proved indeed a day of destiny. It had brought him the assurance of a hope, the confirmation of ahesitant belief that the owners of the lost Mariposa were within reachand, better still, were not entirely masters of the situation. Andyesterday, too, he had met Ydo; and, perhaps, Hayden's thoughts had beenas much occupied with her as with his discovered but not possessedEldorado. 

But Ydo herself was a sufficient excuse for that. And this was anotherday. A daring thought came to him. Why not assist Fate and make it thebest day in the year--a day that should be Marcia's. At this brilliantidea he looked at his watch and then rushed to the telephone. SurelyMarcia, even conscientious Marcia who worked painstakingly at her prettyLittle water-colors every day, would not have left for her studio. Hewould throw dice with Destiny again to-day and push his luck. With thisdetermination, he rang up the residence of Mrs. Oldham. There was amoment or two of delay, and then Marcia's voice answered. Haydenmentioned the beauty of the day--it was overcast--the charm of this softand mild weather--an east wind blew piercingly--and diffidently assumedthat after a day in her studio, she would as usual take the air bywalking home through the Park. 

Yes-s-s-s, she probably would. 

Then since he had hoped to call upon her mother that afternoon, might henot join her and walk up with her, and would she not be leaving herbrushes and canvases early, at half-after four, for instance. 

Yes-s-s, he said four o'clock, did he not? Fate again honored him, shewould be at the Plaza then calling on a friend. 

Hayden had won in his dice-throwing and Fate took defeat handsomely, granting him his desires and throwing a favor or two for lagnappe. Byfour o'clock the wind had veered, the clouds no longer betokened rain, broken spars of sunshine dazzled over the gold of the Sherman statue, sparkled in the harness of prancing horses, and brightened the whitenessof the great hotel. It was early in March, which, by the way, had decidedto enter like a meek little lamb this year instead of advancing with themien of an angry and roaring lion. The air was cool and fresh and yetheld all manner of soft, indescribable intimations of spring. The sky wasa sheet of pale gold, the trees were a purple mist against it. 

Hayden drew a long breath of happiness as Marcia's steps fell in withhis; the sense of contentment and well-being which her mere presencealways afforded him seemed the more soothing and potent this afternoonthan ever before. Since yesterday, there had run high in his veins thefever of acquisition, and Ydo's personality had disturbed and stimulateduntil she had wrought in him a sort of mental confusion. But Marcia athis side, smiling in the shadow of her plumed hat, the familiar violetsnestling in her dark furs, seemed the visible embodiment of all thesesoft, sweet intimations of spring. Not yet jocund, as spring come intoher own crowned with flowers and laughing through her silver rain; but awistful spring still held in the thraldom of winter. 

"What have you been doing that makes you look a little pale?" askedHayden tenderly. 

"Am I pale?" She smiled at him. "I dare say. I have been painting thegreater part of every day and going out a good deal in the evening. "

"What an idler I must seem to you who are always so occupied, " he said. 

"Not at all. I, too, take vacations. But tell me how you have been idlinglately. "

"I idled, if you call it that, " he said, "yesterday afternoon at thewonderful fortune-teller's. "

"Oh, you have seen Ydo?" Marcia lifted her head involuntarily, and thenmeeting his surprised gaze, the color flooded her cheeks. It kept onrolling up in waves. 

Seeing her embarrassment, he was at pains to suppress his astonishment. 

"Yes, " he said as naturally as he possibly could under the circumstances. "Yes, she gave me quite a long reading. Isn't that the professional wordfor it--reading?"

"I--I believe so. " She had not entirely recovered herself. "And are youquite convinced of her powers?"

He gave a short laugh. "Oh, quite. More than convinced. I never shouldquestion them. Mine is the fate of the scoffer. The most rabid persecutoris merely the reverse side of the bigoted proselyter. Upon me rests notthe curse that follows the tolerant. They get nowhere. 'Because thou artneither hot nor cold I spew thee from my mouth. '"

"Really!" It was plain she was a little puzzled, and took refuge in theconveniently inexpressive "really. " "Did she tell you a good fortune?"

"How can I say? Fortune is always in the future. "

"You are teasing me and telling me nothing, " she declared, "and you arelaughing, laughing, too, as if over some secret and mysterious joke. "

"I am laughing, " he said, suddenly serious, "but not over any of therevelations of Mademoiselle Mariposa, I can assure you; and to show youmy faith in her prophecies, I am going to tell you something. " He wasgrave enough now. "And yet, I wonder--perhaps--"

"Perhaps what?"

"Perhaps you will find no interest in what I want to say. "

She looked up at him quickly, surprise in her glance. "How absurd! I donot see why you say such things. Why should you fancy that I would not beinterested in anything you have to tell me?"

They had turned down a narrow lane of trees, and the skies, a deeper andmore luminous gold, were in a net of bare, black twigs. The wind bore thefragrance of Marcia's violets past Hayden's nostrils. 

"But you may not feel so when I tell you that I love you, Marcia. " Hisvoice low and unsteady thrilled her heart. "I realize the rashness of thewhole thing; but I do love you, Marcia. "

There was a moment's silence, a silence when Hayden's heart-beats soundedlouder than the patter of their feet on the concrete pavement or thedistant and mighty roar of the city--and then Marcia lifted her eyes tohis. 

In a moment the miracle had happened. Above them stretched the same goldsky in its intricate and broken nets, the wind blew softly; but they twohad stepped across the boundaries of commonplace days straight intoArcady. Flowers bloomed, birds sang, and the soul of the spring was intheir hearts. But, curiously enough, though they were in Arcady, theywere also in the Park. Hayden looked up the little lane; north and southmarched an unending line of people. They were in Arcady, but deprived ofits ancient privilege of sylvan and umbrageous solitude. 

She was the first to speak. "Why is it absurd?" And her clear voicetrembled a little. 

"How can it be, as things stand, anything but absurd?" he answeredbitterly. "I am simply an engineer on my vacation, who when that is overwill return to the wilds. Oh, Marcia, how can I in common decency ask youto marry me? I can not yet, but I do ask you to let me love you, toforgive me for telling you of my feeling for you, and believe me when Itell you that I would not have had the courage to mention the subject ifI did not feel almost sure of a change of fortune. I don't want to tellyou just yet. I'm trying not to tell you; but dearest, loveliest Marcia, I believe I'm on the eve of success. I can almost close my fingers aroundit, and then you will let me tell you I love you, won't you, dearest?Yes, laugh at me, I don't mind. "

"But suppose, just suppose this wonderful fortune never doesmaterialize, " she said half-teasingly but still tremulously, a smile onher lips and a tear in her eye. "What then?"

"Never suppose it. It can't help it, " he cried confidently. "Why even nowI can see particles of gold in the air. To-morrow, next day, the dayafterward, we shall have our cake. Will you eat it with me, Marcia, ifit's a nice, brown, plum-y cake?"

"You make too many conditions, " she said demurely. "I don't care for veryrich cake myself. Suppose the cake should not turn out particularly wellin the baking? Wouldn't you offer me a piece anyway--Bobby?"

Again he looked up the path and down the path; people still hastening toand fro. Arcady was infested with toilers hurrying home to supper. 

"I'd try not to, " he said manfully, keeping his eyes resolutely away fromhers. "Oh, Marcia, I can't be certain, I'd try not to. I couldn't bearto see you eating underdone cake. It would only mean misery to you. Yourmanner of life--"

"My manner of life!" she interrupted him scornfully. "Ah, what is mymanner of life! Do you fancy that I am deaf as a post and blind as a bat?Do you think that I do not know some of the things that are spoken of me, by Mrs. Ames, for instance, or Horace Penfield, or even Edith Symmes? Doyou fancy any word of that tittle-tattle escapes me? Sometimes it isrepeated, or hinted in malice; sometimes as from Bea or Kitty in fright, as a warning, almost a prayer. I know that I lay myself open to gossip;but I can not help it, at least at present. It is impossible for me toalter things just now. "

"I know, " he murmured tenderly. "I am sure of it. I have realizedsomething of this from the first moment that I met you. But always sincethat moment I could stake my life on this, that any--any mystery thatmight seem to exist was not of your making or choosing. And I want toassure you of something, to make you believe it if necessary; and thatis, dear, dear Marcia, if you never choose to unravel the tangle I shallstill be content. "

She looked at him a moment in absolute, speechless wonder, and thentears, happy tears brimmed in her eyes. "Oh, how glad I shall be tounravel it!" She breathed deeply. "How glad! Wait a little--a week, afortnight. Ah!" She caught herself up hastily. "Come, see how late! It isgrowing dark and the lights are beginning to twinkle out, and they tellme, even if you will not, that it is time I ran home and got dressed. I'mto dine at Bea Habersham's to-night. You must come in with me when wereach home and let mother give you a cup of tea. You are a tremendousfavorite of hers; she says you are wonderfully witty. And then you candrive as far as Bea's with me, and I will have the chauffeur take you onhome. Will you?"

"Will I? Will I? Thank you very much, Miss Oldham, for your amiability inSuggesting such a thing; but I could not possibly take advantage of yourkindness. " If the wit of this sally may be judged by the manner in whichit was received Hayden had just uttered one of the great bon-mots of theages. 

"I hope, " said Marcia presently, a touch of apprehension in her tone, "that some one has been to see mother this afternoon. Poor dear! Shealways feels a little aggrieved if no one comes. "

"Let us appease any possible disappointment she may have suffered bytaking her a present, " suggested Hayden, fired by inspiration. "Women, children, every one likes presents, do they not? Come, let us findshops. "

"What an adventurer you are!" laughed Marcia, letting him lead her acrossthe street, a confusion crowded with swiftly moving vehicles and cars, for they had now left the twilight shadows and comparative seclusion ofthe Park and were walking down the noisy thoroughfare. 

"You will have to make a quick decision, " she added as they came upon aregion of many brilliant shops and sidewalks crowded with people. "Whatwill you take her, fruit or flowers?"

But Hayden was too happy to consider any topic with gravity. "We willtake her a swanboat, or one of the Hesperidian apples, or the GoldenFleece. "

And although Marcia spent herself in urging him to stick to theconservative fruit and flowers, he insisted on following his own vagrantfancy, and at last decided upon an elaborate French basket of pale-bluesatin covered with shirrings of fine tulle. The lid was a mass ofartificial flowers, violets and delicate pink roses, and within thesatin-lined depths was a bunch of Hamburg grapes. 

This, when finally and carefully wrapped, made a huge package; but Haydeninsisted on carrying it, assuring Marcia that every one they met would besure that he was carrying home the turkey for their Sunday dinner. Hebore it ostentatiously, and took particular glee in any passing attentionthey excited. 

"You act as if you were twenty, instead of well--let me guess your age, "looking at him with keen scrutiny. "About thirty-five, " said Marciacruelly. 

He stopped short to gaze at her with pained reproach. "I am Youth!Incarnate Youth, just eighteen. No doubt to your dulled materialisticvision I appear to wear a coat and hat. Is that true?" with polite, tolerant patience. 

"It certainly appears that way to me, " she replied. "What do you imagineyourself to be wearing?"

"And I dare say, " he continued still patiently, "that you also fancy youand I are strolling about in one of the shopping districts of New York?"

"Yes, " nodding affirmatively. "Where else?"

"Wretched, purblind girl! Thirty-five indeed! Why, I am eighteen, andclad in the hide of a leopard with a wreath of roses on my brow, and you, sweet Oenone, are wandering with me on the slopes of Ida--and we aretaking your mother, not one, but a peck of golden apples. "

"All things considered, " said Marcia significantly, "I am glad we havereached our own door. "

They found Mrs. Oldham in good spirits in consequence of having seen anumber of people who had sufficient tact duly to admire her new costumeworn for the first time that afternoon. She had given much considerationto all the effects of the picture she wished to create, and now sat in anespecial chair in an especial part of the room, a vision in pale gray andorchid tints most skilfully mingled. Her feet, in orchid silk stockings, and slippers adorned with great choux of gray chiffon, looked on theirfootstool as if they were a part of the decorations of the room and hadnever served the utilitarian purpose of conveyance. 

"Oh, I am glad to see you!" she cried, peering past Marcia to Hayden whofollowed, almost obscured by his great package. She stretched out a handfor him to take, not disarranging her pose by rising and thus spoilingthe composition. "Marcia, you're dreadfully late, as usual, " a touch offretfulness in her voice. 

"I know, " replied her daughter; "and now, I'm going to leave Mr. Haydento you. Give him some tea, won't you? I'm dining at the Habershams, youknow, and he will drive down with me after a while. "

"Of course I'll give Mr. Hayden some tea. Send in some hot water, Marcia. " She leaned forward, still careful not to move her feet andfussed with the tea things on the table by her side. "I am very glad tosee you, " she murmured again. "Ah, Mr. Hayden, if it were not for myfriends I should be a very lonely woman. You understand, of course, thatI do not complain. Marcia is the dearest girl that ever was, so lovelyand attractive. Oh, dear, yes. But, " with an upward glance ofresignation, "quite young people are apt to be thoughtless, you know, andMarcia's social life is so much to her, and indeed, I am selfish enoughto be truly glad that it is so; it really is a great bond between dearWilfred and herself; but of course it leaves me much alone; and it is notgood for me to be thrown back on myself and my own sad thoughts so much. Mr. Oldham always recognized that fact. 'Change, constant diversion is anAbsolute necessity to one of your sensitive, high-strung nature, ' hewould so often say, but, " with a long-drawn sigh, "no one thinks enoughabout me to feel that way now. "

"Don't say that, " said Hayden cheerfully. "I may not be any one, but I'vebeen thinking about you. Look! I carried this enormous bundle through thestreets just for you. Be careful. It's heavy. "

She flushed with pleasure through her delicately applied rouge, andstretching out her hands for her gift began eagerly to unwind the varioustissue-papers which concealed it. The last of these discarded, she placedthe basket in the middle of the table and spent herself in ecstaticphrases, melting from pose to pose of graceful admiration. 

"Ah, Mr. Hayden, " with one of her archest glances, "you remind me so muchof Mr. Oldham. " Hayden had a swift, mental picture of that grim oldpirate of finance, as represented by his portraits and photographs, hisshrewd, rugged old face surrounded by Horace Greeley whiskers. "He nevercame home without bringing me something. Sometimes it was just a flower, or some fruit, and again it was a jewel. You can't fancy, Mr. Hayden, nowords of mine can express to you his constant thought and care for me. You take lemon in your tea, do you not? I thought so. I always rememberthose little things about my friends. And he had such faith in mybusiness judgment, too. He would often discuss business with me and askmy opinion on this or that matter; and he always, without exception, acted on my advice. He used to say--so foolish of him--that he could notunderstand why he should have been so favored as to have found acombination of beauty and brains in one woman. "

"It is rare, but as I understand now, not impossible. " Hayden took hiscue nobly. 

"Oh, Mr. Hayden!" A reproving finger was shaken at him with the archestcoquetry. "If you talk that way I shan't give you another cup of tea, nomatter how hard you beg. But where was I? Oh, yes, I was telling you thatMr. Oldham so often discussed business matters with me. "

"And did they interest you?" asked Hayden vaguely, wondering how soon hecould possibly expect Marcia to return. 

"Oh, yes, I found it more thrilling than the printed page. "

"Most men do, " he replied dryly. "I didn't know that women felt thatway. "

"I did. " Mrs. Oldham nodded her head in modest acceptation of the factthat she was the exceptional woman. "I found it not only thrilling, butoften _so_ romantic. I do not see why people will speak of 'the drydetails of business. ' I think it is full of romance. "

Hayden stared at her with the amazement her mental processes alwaysaroused in him. 

"It never seemed exactly within the range of romantic subjects to me, " hesaid dubiously; "but perhaps that's the way I've been looking at it. "

"Certainly it is, " she affirmed triumphantly. "Now I'll prove it to you. As I often say to young people, Mr. Hayden: 'Never make an assertionunless you can prove it. ' Now, I distinctly remember Mr. Oldham tellingme of a most romantic business matter. A lost mine of almost unthinkablevalue which was on an old estate somewhere in Brazil, or no, Peru. Why, what is the matter, Mr. Hayden? Your eyes are almost popping out of yourhead. You look as if you had seen a ghost. "

Hayden caught himself together. "It is only that it is so interesting. Dogo on and let me hear the rest of it. "

Mrs. Oldham smiled, well pleased at the tribute to her powers as araconteuse. "Well, there isn't much to tell. I've forgotten the details, and they were so romantic, too; but Mr. Oldham seriously consideredbuying it. "

"And did he buy it?" Hayden's hands were trembling in spite of himself. "This is so intensely interesting, one would like to hear the conclusionof the story. "

But Mrs. Oldham only shook her head. "I don't know, " she said vaguely. "Ithink he did; but I can't be sure. "

She began another long story, but Hayden, after listening to enough of itto assure himself that it had no bearing on The Veiled Mariposa, gavehimself up to the confused conjectures, the hopes, the dreams thatthronged his brain. 

Was it a possibility that Marcia, Marcia, might be the heiress of thegreat Mariposa estate? The owner, or one of the owners of it? He feltovercome by the bare mental suggestion. But was it a possibility, even adim and remote one? Accepting this as a temporary hypothesis, was it notborne out by certain facts? The butterflies, for instance. Did not thosejeweled ornaments symbolize in some delicate, fanciful way, Marcia'sway, her ownership of The Veiled Mariposa? And would not that ownershipalso account for the much-questioned source of her wealth? He stoppedwith a jerk up against a dead wall. The Mariposa mine had not been workedfor years; the ranches were cultivated only by the Spaniard inpossession. These facts were like a dash of cold water, extinguishing theflame of his hopes. And yet, and yet, the butterflies! But that, he wasforced to admit, might be the merest coincidence. 

On that chain of evidence he would find it necessary to regard hiscousin, Kitty Hampton, Mrs. Habersham, the London actress, a score ofwomen, as possible owners of his Golconda. Nevertheless, in spite ofreason, he could not escape the conviction, unfounded but persistent, that those butterflies were in some way connected with the ownership ofthat distant lost mine. And this purely intuitive belief was suddenlystrengthened by the remembrance of Marcia's embarrassment in the Park, anhour or two before, when she had involuntarily and inadvertently spokenof Mademoiselle Mariposa familiarly as Ydo. 

"Yes, Mrs. Oldham, I quite agree with you. As you say: 'One can not betoo careful. ' Oh, no, I never was more interested in my life. "

Ydo! Ydo! He took up the thread of his absorbing reflections again asMrs. Oldham's voice purled on reciting with infinite detail all the dataof one of her Helen-like conquests. Ydo! What bond could exist betweenthe reserved, even haughty Marcia in spite of all her gentleness, and thecapricious, wayward, challenging Ydo? A bond sufficiently strong topermit the affectionate familiarity of first names? He had from thebeginning believed that Ydo had some interest in the property, althoughhe had never been able satisfactorily to guess the nature of it. ButMarcia! The mere possibility of her being interested in what Ydo merrilycalled his Eldorado had never struck him before, and his brain wasbewildered by the thousand new trains of conjecture it started. 

At this point his reflections were broken in upon by the entrance ofMarcia herself. She was all in white with the big, ruby-eyed butterfly onher bosom, and the chain of butterflies about her throat. She looked moreradiant than he had ever seen her as she stood before them drawing on herlong gloves. Her eyes, no longer sad with all regret, were like deep bluestars, and her smile was full of a soft and girlish happiness. 

"You look very well, Marcia, " said her mother critically. "A new gown, ofcourse. How differently they are cutting the skirts!"

"It's a lovely gown, " affirmed Hayden, smiling down into Marcia's eyes. "After all, a simple white frock is the prettiest thing a woman canwear. "

"Simple!" Mrs. Oldham's mirth was high and satiric. "Isn't that like aman? Simple is the last word to be applied to Marcia's frocks, Mr. Hayden. It's a good thing, as I often tell her, that her father left usso well provided for. "

The lovely happiness vanished from Marcia's eyes. She looked quickly ather mother with an almost frightened expression, and then, with eyelasheslowered on her cheek, went silently on drawing on her gloves, two orthree tense little lines showing about her mouth. 

"I think Miss Oldham is very unkind, " said Hayden, with some idea ofbridging the situation gracefully, "never to have shown me any of herpictures. She paints, paints all day long, and yet will not give one aglimpse of the results. Kitty Hampton has been promising to show me someof the water-colors she has, but she has not yet done so. "

"Have you been talking much to Mr. Hayden of your pictures, Marcia?"asked her mother suavely. 

The tone was pleasant, even casual, and yet, Hayden, sensitive, intuitive, had a quick, shocked sense of having blundered egregiously;and worse, he had a further sense of Mrs. Oldham's words being fraughtwith some ugly and hidden meaning. In her voice there had been manifestan unsuspected quality which had revealed her for the moment as not allfrivolous fool or spoiled and empty-headed doll; but a tyrant andoppressor, crueller and more menacing because infinitely weak andunstable. 

Marcia did not reply at all to her mother's question, but with her lashesstill downcast, continued to button her gloves; and Hayden stood, miserably uncomfortable for a moment, and then was forced to doubt thecorrectness of his swift, unpleasant impression; for Mrs. Oldham observedin her usual petulant, inconsequent tones:

"I don't know that I like that necklace with that frock, Marcia. Yourturquoises would look better. I do get so tired of always seeing you withsome kind of a butterfly ornament. You never showed the slightestinterest in butterflies before your father died, and you don't, in theleast, suggest a butterfly. I can not understand it. "

"Don't try, mother dear, " said Marcia. "Good-by. " She kissed the orchidand gray lady lightly on the top of the head. "Have a good time with yourHamburg grapes and your last new novel. "

She slipped her arms through the long white coat Hayden held for her and, followed by him, left the room. 

"Marcia, dear, sweet Marcia, " he coaxed, as they whirled through thestreets in her electric brougham. "I'm sure, almost dead sure, it's goingto be a nice, well-baked, plum-y cake. If it is won't you promise to eatit with me? You know you didn't definitely promise this afternoon, and Inever could stand uncertainty. "

"No, " she said positively, drawing her hand away from his, "I will not. Iwill never give you a definite answer until you offer me a share in thecake, no matter how it turns out in the baking. "

"How can I?" he groaned. "You do not know what sort of a life it wouldbe, the hardships, the deprivations, the necessarily long separationswhen I would have to be in some place utterly impossible for you, formonths at a time. It's the very abomination of desolation. And fancy yourtrying to adapt yourself to it! You, used to this!" rapping the electric. "And this, and this!" touching lightly the ermine on her cloak and thejewels at her throat. "No. " He shook his head doggedly. "I won't. I knowwhat it means and you do not. Lovely butterfly"--the tenderness of hisvoice stirred her heart-strings--"do you think that I could bear to seeyou beaten to earth, your bright wings torn and faded by the cruelstorms? Never. But, " with one of his quick, mercurial changes of mood, "it's an alternative that we do not have to face. For it's coming out allright in the baking--that cake. The most beautiful cake you ever saw, Marcia, with a rich, brown crust, and more plums than you ever dreamed ofin a cake before. "

CHAPTER XI

"Bobby, " said Kitty Hampton one evening as they sat alone together in herdrawing-room, "things are slow, deadly slow. Why do not you do somethingto amuse your little cousin?"

"My little cousin has far more amusement than is good for her as it is, "returned Hayden. "But while you're mentioning this, let me say that I amanxious to evince some appreciation of all the hospitality you and Mrs. Habersham and one or two others have shown me; but I don't know just whatto do. "

Kitty sat up with a marked accession of interest in her expression andattitude. "Dear me! There are quantities of things you could do, " shesaid. "But, Bobby, do get out of the beaten track; try to think ofsomething original. Of course, it's all nonsense, about feeling underobligation to any one for so-called hospitality, but there is no reasonwhy you should not provide some fun. Now, what shall it be?"

"Anything you say, " remarked Hayden amiably. "To tell the truth, Kitty, I've been intending to ask you just what I should do. What can yousuggest?"

"It requires thought. " Kitty spoke seriously. "But be assured of this:I'm not going to suggest any of the same old things. If you wantsomething really delightful and have a desire to have us truly enjoyourselves you must have just a few congenial people. Better make it adinner, I think. That is it. A dinner at your apartment, " catchingjoyously at this idea, "with some original, clever features. "

"I thought whatever it was"--Hayden had reddened perceptibly--"I'd likeit to be--a--a--compliment, in a way, to Miss Oldham. "

"I do not doubt it. " Kitty surveyed him with amused eyes. 

"I always think of her in connection with the butterflies she wears somuch. Would it be a possibility to carry the butterfly idea out in someway?" he asked. 

Kitty clapped her hands. She was all animation and enthusiasm now. Thehabitual, sulky-little-boy expression had quite vanished from her face. "Beautiful! Just the idea! You couldn't have thought of a better one. Thebutterfly lady has had a great fascination for you, hasn't she, Bobby?"

"Which one?" he asked quickly. 

"Which one? Hear that!" His cousin apostrophized space. "Why, I wasthinking of Marcia, of course. "

He smiled a little and became momentarily lost in reverie, his chin inthe palm of his hand, and dreaming thus, Kitty's old French drawing-roomand Kitty herself, her blond prettiness accentuated and enhanced by thedelicate pinks and blues of her gown, vanished, and Marcia seemed tostand before him all in black and silver as he had seen her recently at aball, with violets, great purple violets, falling below the shiningbutterfly on her breast, her sweet and wistful smile curving her lips andher eyes full of light and happiness. 

"Bobby, come back!" Kitty touched him petulantly on the arm. "You've beena million miles away, and you looked so selfishly happy that I feel allshivery and out in the cold. "

"Kitty, " he said, "I will confess, when I said, 'Which one?' I wasthinking not only of Miss Oldham, but of the other butterfly lady--theMariposa. You know Mariposa means butterfly. Well, it is really theMariposa who fascinates me. "

"Bobby! What on earth do you mean?" Kitty's expression was a mixture ofDisappointment and indignation. 

"Just what I say. The Mariposa fascinates me; but, Kitty, " his facesoftening, "I love the fairy princess with all my heart. I have loved herfrom the first moment I saw her. "

"How dear! I have thought so, hoped so, for some time. " Her face was allaglow. "But you frightened me dreadfully, just now. I was afraid you hadgone over to Mademoiselle Mariposa like Wilfred Ames. He is crazy abouther, simply crazy. I did not know he could be crazy over anything, exceptthe chance of tearing off to some impossible spot to shoot big game. "

"Wilfred Ames! Crazy about the Mariposa!" exclaimed Hayden incredulously;and then he paused, remembering that it was but recently that he had metAmes at the door of Ydo's apartment. 

"Yes. " Kitty was sulky again. "It's true. And I wanted him for Marcia. But Marcia was stupid about it and always laughed at the idea. HoracePenfield says that he has completely swerved from his allegiance toMarcia. Just fancy how his mother will behave now. Good for her, I say. But, Bobby, have you told Marcia?"

"Yes. I couldn't help it, Kitty, but it wasn't fair. I had no right tosay a word until I know how things are going to turn out with me andthat, thank Heaven, will be settled in a day or so. " He drew a long sigh. 

"Bobby, " Kitty was looking at him curiously, and a rather hard abruptnesshad crept into her tone, "has she, Marcia, told you anything aboutthese?" She touched the butterflies clasped about her throat. 

"No. " He shook his head. "But I believe I have guessed theirsignificance. And it has made me happier than I can tell you. It has mademe feel that our interests are one, as if Destiny had intended us foreach other. "

"I'm sure I don't see why it should, " she said shortly, looking at him ina bewildered, disapproving way. "I didn't know you were that kind. Itsounds awfully self-seeking. I do not believe you've guessed right. " Herface brightened. "That is it. You've got some idea into your head, andit's evidently far from the correct one. You wouldn't be the Bobby I knowif it were. "

"Then tell me what the correct one is, " he coaxed. "If I am on the wrongtrack, set me on the right one. "

"Not I, " she returned firmly. "The thing for us to decide is just whatsort of a dinner you are going to have. You want some really interestingfeatures. I insist on that. "

He threw wide his arms. "I give you carte blanche, here and now, Kitty. All that I insist on are the butterfly effects. Beyond that, I leaveeverything in your hands; but I must have them. "

Kitty's eyes gleamed with pleasure. She loved to manage other people'saffairs. "I'll see to them, " she affirmed. "Just give me a little time tothink them up. What shall we have afterward? Some music?"

"So commonplace, " he objected, "and the place is too small. "

"Yes-s-s, " she reluctantly agreed. "And you don't want very many people. Just our own especial little group. "

"It will have to be small, " he warned her. "My quarters do not admit ofanything very extensive. "

"Whom shall we have?" Mrs. Hampton began to count on her fingers. "TheHabershams, and Edith Symmes, and Horace Penfield, and Warren and myself, and Marcia, and Wilfred Ames, and yourself. " She paused, a look of dismayoverspreading her face. "We'll have to have another woman. Who on earthshall it be?"

"A butterfly dinner without the Mariposa would seem like _Hamlet_ withthe Prince left out, wouldn't it?" suggested Hayden. 

"Oh!" Kitty gasped joyously. "Mademoiselle Mariposa! Do, do, invite her. What fun! Do you think she will come? You know Marcia knows her, but shewill not talk about her ever, because, she says, Mademoiselle Mariposahas requested her not to. So she will not say where and how she met her. Mean thing! Of course, I've only seen her in her little mask andmantilla. You do not suppose she would wear them to a dinner, do you? Iam dying to see her without them. Horace Penfield knows her very well andhe says she is very beautiful and deliciously odd. If it enters into herhead to do anything she just does it, no matter what it is. Andextravagant!" Kitty lifted her eyes and hands at once. "They say that herjewels and frocks are almost unbelievable. Why, one day when she wasreading my palm, I noticed that her gown was drawn up a little on oneside, and showed her petticoat beneath, with ruffles of Mechlin, realMechlin on it. Some people say that she is a Spanish princess, orsomething of the kind--so eccentric that she tells fortunes just for thefun of it. Oh, Bobby, do, do get her. "

"When shall we have this dinner?" asked Hayden, with apparentirrelevance. 

Kitty thought quickly. "Give me ten days to decide upon things and havemy orders carried out. "

"Very good. Ten days. Let me see, that will be Tuesday of week afternext. Do you think the rest will come?"

"Of course they will come. They would break any other engagement to meetMademoiselle Mariposa. "

"Then I will find out now if she will come, if you will allow me to useyour telephone. "

He was lucky enough to find Ydo at home; but when he informed her that hewas giving a dinner for a few friends on Tuesday, ten days away, and thathe earnestly desired her presence, she demurred. 

"What are you doing this evening?" he asked. 

"Nothing, " she answered, "and I am bored. "

"Then jump into your electric and come here to my cousin's, Mrs. WarrenHampton's, as fast as you can, " he said audaciously. 

"How do you know she wants me? You are taking a great deal on yourself. "

For answer Hayden handed the receiver to Kitty, who had followed him outand now stood at his shoulder listening breathlessly to every word. "Mademoiselle is in doubt of your eagerness to see her, " he said. 

"Oh, please come, " urged Kitty through the telephone. "Waste no time. "

"I will be with you in twenty minutes, " said Ydo sweetly. 

Back in the drawing-room, Kitty was too excited to remain quietly in herchair, but danced about expressing her delight at the prospect of at lastseeing the Mariposa sans mask and mantilla. 

"Tell me, Bobby, " she insisted, "is she really so eccentric?"

"I fancy she does exactly as she pleases, always, " he replied. 

"And extravagant? Warren says no one could be more extravagant than I. "

"She is a dreamer, " he averred, "a dreamer who dreams true. Her ideas areso vivid that she insists on seeing them in tangible form. I don'tbelieve she particularly counts the cost or the base material means bywhich these things must be accomplished. "

"Fancy!" sighed Kitty. "Oh, I do hope she will wear one of her stunninggowns and some of those marvelous jewels they say she possesses, set inthe most wonderful, quaint ways, Horace Penfield says. But surely shewill. "

"I think it likely, " agreed Robert amiably. 

"And is she very clever and interesting?" continued Kitty. 

"She is herself, " said Hayden. "I can not describe her any other way. Shemay strike you as a bit staccato and stilted sometimes; but it is naturalto her. She is always herself. "

There was a faint sound of a curtain before the door being pushed aside, but this, Kitty and Hayden, absorbed in their conversation, had notheard, and now, Mrs. Hampton turned with a stifled scream to see astranger, a Gipsy, standing almost at her elbow. 

"Pretty lady!" The English was more deliciously broken than ever, and socajoling was the whisper that it would have coaxed the birds off thetrees and wheedled money from the stingiest pocket. "Pretty lady, let metell your fortune. Cross my palm with silver. 'Tis the seventh daughterof a seventh daughter who asks you. "

Kitty looked from the Gipsy to Robert in bewilderment. This was not thedazzling figure in gauzes and satins and jewels she had expected, acapricious lady of a foreign and Southern nobility, whose whimsical anderratic fancy was occasionally amused by a change of role. This was adaughter of the long, brown path, who afoot and light-hearted tooknaturally to the open road, with the tanned cheek, white teeth, and merryeyes of her kind. 

And yet, if not the glittering vision Kitty had anticipated, Ydo was asufficiently vivid and picturesque figure. Her short corduroy skirt hadfaded with wear and washing to a pale fawn-tint with a velvety bloom uponit; her brown boots were high and laced, her blue blouse had faded likeher skirt to a soft and lovely hue. A red sash confined her waist, ahandkerchief of the same color was knotted loosely about her throat, while a yellow scarf was tied about her head and fell in long ends downher back. 

Kitty immediately recovered from the shock she had experienced at theunheralded advent of the strange visitor and endeavored to make up inwarmth of greeting for the surprise she had shown. 

"Forgive me, instead, " said Ydo, with charming penitence. "But I was theGipsy to-night in heart and feeling. I had to put on these. Oh, " throwingherself into a chair, "I have suffered to-day. It has been coming on fordays. Ennui. Do you know it, pretty lady? And the longing for mine ownpeople. "

"Your people are not in this country, are they?" asked Kitty politely. 

The Mariposa drew her brows together in a little puzzled frown. "Mypeople!" she repeated. "Oh, " with dawning comprehension, "you meanrelatives. I, " with a short laugh, "I said mine own people. You, " turningto Robert, "you understand. One of the greatest, most searching questionsever asked, and which must finally be answered by each of us from thepromptings of his own heart, is: 'Who is my brother and my sister?' Ah, Ishall soon take to the road again. If I could only go now!"

"To find your own people, " asked Kitty timidly. 

"One does not seek one's own, " said Ydo disdainfully. "One does not'scour the seas nor sift mankind a poet or a friend to find. ' He comes, and you know him because he is a poor Greek like yourself. Dearlady"--she broke into one of her airy rushes of laughter--"in spite ofyour smiles and all the self-control of a careful social training, youare the picture of bewilderment. See, you can keep no secrets from thefortune-teller. You can not place me. Why do you try? I refused to beannounced and mine was the fate of the listener. Brutus there is anhonorable man who admits that I am extravagant, even if he condones it. Ah, madame, money is not wealth, it is a base counterfeit, a servant whomI bid to exchange itself for beauty. These"--she stripped the petals froma red rose in a vase near her, and tossed them in the air--"these are thereal wealth of the world. And Brutus says I am stilted, exaggerated in myconversation, given to metaphor and hyperbole. That is because I dare toexpress what I feel, and since everywhere I see parables I voice them. Why not?

"And Brutus says I am eccentric, admitting that I dare to be myself; andto dare to be one's self, dear lady, is to dare everything. We are afraidof life, of love, of sorrow and joy, of everything. This fear of life isuniversal. "

"And you, are you never afraid?" asked Kitty. 

"Of what?" laughed the Gipsy. "Let me tell you a secret; and oh, madame, wear it next your heart, guard it. 'Tis a talisman against fear. Thelions are always chained. Believe me, it is so. But our conversation isof a seriousness! Mr. Hayden spoke of a dinner. "

"Yes, and he's given me permission to do just as I choose, " said Kitty. "So it's got to be a success--"

"And she's trying to say, " interrupted Hayden, "that it couldn't possiblybe a success without you. "

"Of course I am, " agreed Kitty, "only I should have put it less bluntly. "

"Wait! I have an inspiration. " Ydo thought a moment. "I will not come tothe dinner. We can make it much more effective than that. Ah, listen!"waving her hands to quell their protests. "Let me appear, later in theevening, in my professional capacity and tell the past, present andfuture of your guests. Yes, I will come in mask and mantilla, The VeiledMariposa, " with a dramatic gesture, a quick twinkle of the eyes towardHayden. "I assure you, it will be far more interesting so. "

[Illustration]

"There is really no doubt about that, " said Kitty thoughtfully, andtogether they silenced Robert's eloquent plea that the dinner would fallflat unless Ydo was one of the guests. 

"It is settled, and I must go. " The Mariposa spoke decisively. "I shallgo home and make Eunice play for me, and perhaps I shall dance off someof my restlessness. "

"Oh, dance for us, " begged Kitty. "I will play for you, and you see thatthe piano is so placed that I can watch you at the same time. What shallI play? Some Spanish dances?"

Ydo, full of the spirit of the thing, considered. "I think I will showyou a pretty little dance I learned down in South America. "

"South America!" Hayden started as if he had received an electric shock. 

Perhaps a heightened color glowed on Mademoiselle Mariposa's cheek; butshe gave no further sign of perturbation. "Yes, " she answered carelessly, "I have lived there, in one place or another. Any one of those Spanishdances will do, Mrs. Hampton. Watch my steps. They are peculiar and verypretty. "

As she stood there swaying like a flower in a breeze, it was, to Hayden'sfancy, as if he had never seen color before. Kitty in her pinks and blueswas a gay little figure; her drawing-room was a rich and sumptuouslydecorated apartment, but under the spell of the Mariposa's "woven pacesand weaving hands, " Mrs. Hampton appeared a mere Dresden statuette, thetapestried and frescoed walls became a pale and evanescent background, and Ydo alone, dancing, focused in herself all light and beauty; nay, sheherself was the pride of life, the rhythm of motion, the glory of color. 

On and on she danced and Hayden, watching, dreamed dreams and sawvisions. She was the Mariposa floating over a field of flowers, scarletand white poppies, opening and closing its gorgeous wings in the hotsunshine; she was a snow-flake whirled from the heart of a winter storm;she was an orchid swaying in the breeze; she was a thistledown driftingthrough the grasses. 

Then, at the height of her spells she stopped and laughingly cast herselfinto a chair. 

"Oh!" Kitty was breathless with admiration. "Oh, why, why, when you candance like that, do you tell fortunes?"

"There's a reason, " Ydo quoted, with a little toss of her head towardHayden. "That is exactly the answer I made your cousin once before. And, oh, señor, apropos of that reason, I have a conference arranged for youto-morrow afternoon at four o'clock at my apartment. I almost forgot totell you. I meant to have telephoned. "

Hayden's face flushed with pleasure. "Really?" he cried. "You really havethe people together. Oh, " with a long sigh, "it is good news. Suspensedoes wear on me, señorita. " He spoke half humorously, but with anunderlying seriousness. 

"It will soon be over, " encouraged Ydo. "Then, until Tuesday night, tendays hence, _au revoir_, madame; and until to-morrow at four o'clock, _aurevoir_, señor. Good luck for ever be on this house! In it I haveforgotten temporarily my wanderlust. Good-by. "

CHAPTER XII

With his heart high with hope, Hayden lost no time in taking his way toYdo's apartment the next afternoon. It was Sunday, a day on which shereceived no clients, and the maid showed him into neither theconsulting- nor reception-rooms, but in a small library beyond them whichwas evidently a part of her private suite. 

In coloring the room suggested the soft wood tones that Ydo loved, greensand browns and russets harmoniously blended. The walls were lined withbook-cases, crowded with books, a great and solacing company: Montaigne, Kipling, Emerson, Loti, Kant, Cervantes. These caught Hayden's eye as hetook the chair Mademoiselle Mariposa indicated. There were roses, deepred roses in tall vases, and the breeze from the half-opened window blewtheir fragrance in delicious gusts about the room. 

"'The rose-wind blowing from the South, '" quoted Hayden smilingly as heclasped the hand Ydo extended to him from the depths of her chair. Then, clapping his hand to his heart, he bowed exaggeratedly before her. "Señorita, I throw my heart at your feet. "

"It did not touch the ground, señor. I caught and am holding it for aransom, " she answered, with the same elaborate and formal courtesy. 

He shrugged his shoulders disdainfully. "It is not worthy a ransom, señorita. I beg you, if you will pardon my presumption in offering sobeggarly a gift, to deign to keep it. "

"Señor, you overwhelm me. It is I who am unworthy to receive so pricelessa token, and only upon one condition can I do so, and that condition is, that you will in return accept mine. "

They both laughed like children at play, and Hayden again threw himselfin the easy chair and took one of the cigarettes Ydo pushed toward him. 

"Well, gallant knight, who have found Eldorado, " she said, "I have adisappointment in store for you. One of the rightful heirs has suddenlybeen called away on business and will not be in town for ten days or so, but he will communicate with me immediately upon his return and I shallwave my wand, in other words, take down the telephone receiver and summonyou to a conference. "

"He!" Hayden felt a sharp sense of disappointment. Then, after all, Marcia was not the sole owner, even if she were one at all. He wonderedimpatiently why he clung so tenaciously to that idea. Her father hadprobably never bought the property, or if he had, it had, no doubt, passed entirely out of her hands. 

"Señorita, " he implored, "do tell me who these owners are; how many ofthem are there--something, at least, about them. It is only fair to me, do you not think so? What possible reasons are there for secrecy andmystery?"

"He asks me, a professional fortune-teller, to discard secrecy andmystery!" cried the Mariposa. "Who ever heard the like? No. I have my ownreasons for conducting this affair in my own particular and peculiar way, and, as far as I can see, señor, there is nothing for you to do butacquiesce. But listen! 'Tis the professional voice of MademoiselleMariposa which you hear now. Do not fear. You may set your house in orderand do your wooing with an easy mind. It is all over. Poor brother of theroad, you have found Eldorado and won Cinderella. Ah, the cruel gods!"She lifted her eyes to the ceiling. 

"Won Cinderella!" He wondered sharply how much she knew, if anything, anddecided she was probably speaking on the authority of recent rumorgleaned from Horace Penfield. 

"You seem to imply that the gods are offering me nectar in a hemlockcup. "

She nodded several times, each nod becoming more emphatic. 

 "Ah, happy he who gains not The love some seem to gain. "

"Señorita, " he protested politely, "your hyperbole is no doubt fraughtwith wisdom, but it is a wisdom beyond my dense understanding. "

"You've forgotten, " she replied. "'Twas a lesson we learned 'when you werea tadpole and I was a fish, ' It is a bit of wisdom that lies deep in ourhearts; but we shrink from it and refuse to heed it, clinging blindly toour illusions. "

"You always moralize so unpleasantly. " He looked so desperate that shelaughed her silver, ringing laughter that shook the rose-petals fromtheir calyxes. 

"Well, to change the subject, when you have Cinderella and Eldorado whatare you going to do with them?"

"Enjoy life!"

"Child! The rashest of statements! Life resents nothing so much as takingher for granted. When she hears her mariners cry: 'Clear sailing now, 'she invariably tosses them a storm. When they exclaim with relief: 'aquiet port, ' she laughs in her sleeve and presents them with quicksand. Now I will tell you something, prophesy, without crystal, your palm orany astrological charts. See, I am always the fortune-teller. Listen. "Her voice sank into deep, rich tones. "On your throne in Eldorado, withCinderella beside you in her gold crown, there will come a day, an hour, when in the twinkling of an eye, all the shimmer, the shine, the purpleand gold, the pomp and pride will grow dim before your eyes, and fadequite away, and you will see instead the long, brown path with the pineson either side marching up the hillside, on and on, up and up, and beyondthem the snowy tips of the mountains, and you will hear the music thathas never been written, the song of the road; all of its harmonies of thewind in the trees and the beat of the surf upon the shingle. It willhaunt you until you will sicken for it; and at night, no matter how softyour bed and how silken your coverlets, you will toss and turn and dreamof the hemlock boughs and the fern, the smell of the deep, deep woods!"

"Don't!" he cried sharply. "Stop it! It is too realistic. Anyway, I canalways go back. "

"Oh, no, you can not, " she said. "That will be quite impossible after youhave lived in Eldorado for a while. You'll forget the way. " She shook herhead. "You'll never come back. "

"Then, I'm willing, glad and proud "--he lifted his head, his eyesshining--"to give it up for her, if she wants Eldorado. Tell me, Ydo, "boldly, "have you never loved?"

"Many times. " Her eyes dreamed. "Many times have I loved and unloved andforgotten. For that very reason I quote to you:

 "'Ah, happy he who gains not The love some seem to gain. '

"Oh, what an opportunity my scorned profession gives me for knowing thehuman heart. This woman who comes to me cries: 'If I had only married Ishould have known the joy of companionship, of motherhood, and childrengrowing up around me, ' And this one wails: 'I have made a mistake. If Ihad not married and been condemned to a humdrum life what a noise I mighthave made in the world with my gifts and my beauty, ' There is only onegood, you know, the good we haven't got. They want a life of romance, ofcharm, and they never seem to think that it must be within them. " Shestruck the table lightly. "Life is only a reflection of one's self. "

"And have you found your choice satisfactory?" he asked curiously. 

She gave her quick little shrug. "I have lived after my own nature. Itwould have been impossible for me to do otherwise. Ah, life, life! Therehas never been a moment that good or bad, I have not loved it! It is aplant--life, a beautiful plant; and most people are in haste to cull itsloveliest blossoms and strip it bare of leaves, in the effort to get allit can give, and finally, they even drag up the roots to see if they cannot extract something more; but to enjoy that plant, Mr. Hayden"--shespoke with passionate emphasis--"you must love and tend it. 'To get themost out of life' is a horrible phrase. Life offers nothing to those whoseek her thus; but to all who ask little of her, who stand ready and gladto give, she repays an hundredfold. "

"What a preacher you are, " he laughed. 

Before Ydo could answer, the maid entered with a card and handed it toher. The Mariposa sat silent for a moment or two, gazing intently at thebit of pasteboard, a peculiar smile on her lips. 

"Show Mrs. Ames in here, " she said at last, with sudden decision. 

"Mrs. Ames!" Hayden sat in dumb amazement "Mrs. Ames!" What on earthCould that old woman want with the Mariposa?

But before he could voice his astonishment, the visitor appeared. She wasin her customary rusty, fringed black, jingling with chains, mummified inexpression, and with the usual large showing of dusty diamonds. Shesurveyed Hayden through her lorgnon with both surprise and disapproval, and then acknowledging his bow with a curt nod, turned to Ydo. 

But a change had come over Mademoiselle Mariposa. She was no longer theDreaming Gipsy, but a _grande dame_, a lady with some subtle, exotictouch of foreign distinction, who greeted the older woman with a charmingand reserved grace. 

Mrs. Ames seated herself on the extreme edge of a stiff chair. "Mademoiselle Mariposa, " her thin voice rang authoritatively, "I hadhoped to see you alone for a few moments of private conversation. "

"Just so, madame, " responded Ydo suavely, "but I have no secrets from Mr. Hayden. He is an old friend, an adviser, I may call him. "

"Humph!" Again the lorgnon was turned threateningly on Hayden. "Verywell, since you have brought this on yourself, you may take theconsequences. I will continue with what I have to say. Mademoiselle, Ihave had a recent and most distressing interview with my son. To put itfrankly, I was reproaching him with his devotion to a most ineligibleyoung woman, and he, in a rage, informed me that he cared nothing forher, and proclaimed, openly proclaimed, his infatuation for you. "

"Wilfred!" Ydo sat upright, her languid gaze brightening. "Really!"

"Wilfred?" the mother repeated, with a rising inflection. 

"Yes, Wilfred; you were speaking of him, were you not?" The Mariposa'sgreen eyes sparkled with mirth. "Well, madame"--she spokenegligently--"what can I do for you? You know I do not receive any oneprofessionally on Sunday. "

"Would you regard it as professional if I ask you what you are going todo about my son?"

"Not at all. I think it quite natural that you should wish to know. I canquite appreciate your state of mind, maternal anxiety, and all that. Tohave been in terror for fear your son would marry Marcia Oldham and thendiscover that he is really interested in me! It illuminates that passagein _Paradise Lost_, does it not? It is sometimes considered obscure. Youdoubtless recall it. Something about 'and in the lowest depths a lowerdepth was found. '"

"You seem to have some appreciation of the situation, " said the old womangrimly. 

"Believe me, I have. Only the mask smiles Comedy at me, and Tragedy atyou. Madame, why do you cluck so over your one chicken?"

"The answer to that, " Mrs. Ames tartly replied, "is first Miss Oldham andthen yourself. "

"The declining scale! Fancy where he will end!" Ydo murmured. 

"It may be a circus-rider yet, " admitted his mother. 

"I have been one, " announced Ydo calmly, and Hayden could not tellwhether she spoke the truth or fiction. "Well"--there was a touch ofimpatience in her tones now--"what do you wish me to do?" She lifted afan from her lap, and rapidly furled and unfurled it, a sure sign ofirritation with her. "Find him a pretty doll with a blue sash and awreath of daisies? You must have urged many a one on him and see to whatthey have driven him. "

"Wait, " said the old lady, laying one bony, yellow hand stiff with rings, dusty diamonds in dim gold settings, on Ydo's arm. "Why do you take itfor granted that I have come to you to do the tearful mother, imploringthe wicked adventuress to give up her son? They do those things on thestage, and I've never regarded the stage as a mirror of life. I haveheard more about you than you think, mademoiselle. Horace Penfield sitsin my ingle-nook. Now, what I came to find out is what you want withWilfred, if indeed you want him at all. "

"You flatter me, " said Ydo. "More, you interest me. Now, just why do youwish to know?"

"Are you going to marry him?"

"It is evidently cards on the table with us. " Ydo had recovered her goodspirits. "Truly, I have not decided. You see, madame, your Wilfred is abig, good-natured fellow. He is like a faithful, loyal, devoted dog. Youand I being cats need neither his assistance, advice nor sympatheticcompanionship. I can also say truly that his ancient name and his moneyare nothing to me. But he has something I want. " She rested her cheek onher fan, a wistful note had crept into her voice, a shadow lay in hereyes. "Ah, madame, do you not understand that we, to whom all things comeeasily, are often very lonely? Life's spoiled and petted darlings, we areof necessity isolated. We live at high pressure, absorbed in ourenthusiasms and interests, but there come moments of weariness when wewould droop on the heart that really loves us, when we would rest in thatmaternal and protecting love which never criticizes, never judges orcondemns, never sees the ravages of time or the waste of beauty, neverputs upon us the crowning indignity of forgiveness--only loves. Loves, madame, as Wilfred loves me. 'Tis the rarest thing in all the world. "

"And what would you give the poor dog in exchange for this?" Mrs. Ames'voice was dry to sarcasm. But Ydo was unmoved. 

"My brains, madame, my knowledge of men, women and the world. Mydiplomacy, my power of attack. Wouldn't it be a fair exchange?"

Mrs. Ames clasped her stiff hands together and dropped the lorgnonon the floor. "By George!" she cried. "You're a man after my ownheart. Look at me! I'm a withered, haggard old woman, fierce as acat and ugly as sin. Why? Because all my life I've been baffled. Iwas born as wild a bird, my dear, as yourself; but I never knew howto get out of the cage and I was always getting into new ones. Ilacked--what-d'-y'-m'-call-it--initiative; and all this longing in me forfreedom"--she clutched the dangling fringes on her breast--"and life andthe choosing of my own path never had an outlet. It turned sour andcurdled, and became malice and all uncharitableness. 

"Well, when I began to realize that Wilfred would probably give me acompanion in the cage I got sick. I could bear the cage myself, I'dlearned to do that; but I didn't want another she-bird molting around. And then when it looked as if it would be Marcia Oldham I got sicker. Itdrove me wild to think of that milk-faced chit of a girl, with a fool ofa mother that I've always despised! I tell you what you do, Miss GipsyFortune-teller!" She rapped the arm of Ydo's chair emphatically. "MarryWilfred! Sure if you do, " peering at her suspiciously, "that you won'telope with some one else?"

"I may, " said Ydo coolly. "Only I have had the experience twice before, and it doesn't amuse me. " Again, for the life of him, Hayden could notdecide whether this were the embroidery of fiction or the truth. "Thefirst man used scent on his handkerchief, and the second ate garlic withhis fingers. I couldn't endure either of them for a week. "

"You rake!" chuckled Wilfred's mother, clapping the Mariposa on theshoulder. "Marry Wilfred, do now! Make him president, at any rate aforeign ambassador. " She rose. "You've given me fresh hope. I feel twentyyears younger. Well, Mr. Heywood--Harden--whatever your name is, we'vetreated you as if you were a piece of furniture. "

"Regard me instead as a wall, " said Hayden pleasantly, "which has earsbut no tongue. Won't you vouch for my discretion, Mademoiselle Mariposa?"

"As I would for the chairs and tables to which Mrs. Ames so amiablycompares you, " smiled Ydo. 

When Hayden returned from putting the old lady in her carriage he showedall the elation of one who has scored heavily. 

"Aha!" he cried. "Warning me one moment with serious argument against theInevitable ennui induced by settling in Eldorado and all the timepreparing to build your own castles there!"

"But not for permanent residence, " she protested, "and I assure you, Ihave not even decided whether or not to build there at all. My real homeis for ever in Arcady. Do you think, seriously think, that there isanything in Eldorado which can hold me when I see the beechwoods growinggreen, and hear the fifes of June in my ears and get a whiff of thewild-grape fragrance? Then I know that there's nothing for me but Arcady;and it's up and away in the wake of the clover-seeking bee. But you're aman, Bobby, who has--what is that awful phrase?--oh, yes, 'acceptedresponsibilities, ' and you'll stay there in Eldorado, bound by white armsand ropes of gold. "

CHAPTER XIII

Marcia had been causing Hayden much perturbation and unrest by keepinghim very sedulously at a distance. The glimpses he had had of herrecently had been few and far between, and in response to his pleadingsand reproaches, he was informed that her time was tremendously occupiedand that she was absorbed in a picture she was anxious to finish by acertain time. In consequence, he was inordinately delighted to hear hervoice one morning over the telephone--although the reason she gave forcalling him up occasioned his undisguised surprise, for she informed himthat sometime during the day he would receive an informal invitation fromMrs. Ames requesting him to be present at a luncheon she was giving atthe Waldersee the following day. 

"Mrs. Ames! Inviting me!" Hayden uttered rapid fire exclamations. "Well, it is a foregone conclusion that I shall not accept, of course. "

"Please reconsider your decision before you so hastily decline, " Marcia'svoice was full of amusement, "please. "

A dreadful suspicion shot through Hayden's mind. Why was Marcia pleadingthe cause of this old woman who had so abominably used her? Had Wilfredreturned to his allegiance?

Perhaps Marcia divined some of these thoughts, for she added a littlehastily, "It is in reality a luncheon given for Mademoiselle Mariposa, and both she and Wilfred have begged me to be present. It is really forWilfred's sake that I am going. We have so long been good friends, youknow. When I heard you were to be invited, I suspected at once that youwould refuse. "

"I certainly should have done so, " interrupted Hayden grimly, "and youknow why. "

"I do know, " she said sweetly, "and it's dear of you; but now that youunderstand things you'll accept, won't you?"

"Of course I shall, if you wish it, " he replied with fervor. 

"Thank you, and--and--I shall not be nearly so busy from now on. I havealmost finished my--my--picture. "

The answer, the various answers that Hayden made were of the usual orderand need not be recorded; but her predictions were speedily fulfilled, for within the hour, Mrs. Ames had called him to the telephone and in thenearest approach to dulcet tones which she could compass was urging himto take luncheon with herself and a few friends at the Waldersee on thefollowing day. 

With Marcia in mind, he promptly, even effusively accepted. He was struckby the fact that his prospective hostess had chosen one of the mostconspicuous hotels in the town wherein to entertain her guests instead ofdoing the thing decently and soberly amid the 1850 splendors of herancestral down-town home. Yes, the eccentric old creature had somethingin the wind, beyond question, and his curiosity was but increased when helearned, some hours later, from Kitty Hampton that neither herself, BeaHabersham nor Edith Symmes were bidden to the feast. 

But not long was he left in suspense, for Mrs. Ames herself hastened toallay his curiosity when she met him the next day in one of thereception-rooms of the hotel, where he arrived promptly on the hour shehad mentioned. He looked about him in some surprise, for although therewere several detached people in the room, the rest of her guests, whoeverthey might be, had not yet arrived. 

"I asked you a bit early, Mr. Heywood, Harden, --oh, what is your name?Well, it doesn't matter--Hayden--oh, yes; because there was something Iparticularly wanted to say to you. You see, this is rather an especialoccasion, " she settled complacently a row of dull black bracelets setwith great diamonds on her arm. Hayden reflected on her odd passion fordusty gems. "Can you imagine who my guests are and why I have asked themhere?" she lifted her formidable lorgnon and surveyed him through it, hereyes reminding more than ever of those of some fierce, inquisitive bird. 

"Truly, I can not, dear lady, " Hayden assured her in all sincerity. "Yousuggest all manner of unexpected and delightful things. "

"My guests, " said Mrs. Ames, smoothing her black bombazine impressivelyand detaching a bit of straw from some tangled fringe, "are, to mentionthe men first, Wilfred, Horace Penfield and yourself, and my women guestsare Marcia Oldham and Ydo Carrothers. "

"Really!" was all Hayden could think of to exclaim, and he uttered thatsomewhat feebly. 

"Yes, " the old lady nodded her head, all the jet ornaments on her rustyblack bonnet jingling together. "Yes, I've been so nasty about MarciaOldham that I want to make some public reparation. " She drew herself upand spoke virtuously; but Hayden doubted the entire sincerity of thestatement. That might be her reason, in part, but he felt convinced ofsome deeper motive. She might feel that she no longer had cause foractive opposition to Marcia; but the girl did not appeal to hertemperament and never could. At best, she could regard a woman of MarciaOldham's type with but tepid interest. "And she's been gracious enough tosay she'd come. At first, she refused point blank, but I got Wilfred topersuade her. He and she have always been good friends. Miss GipsyFortune-teller was also inclined to balk; but she too will be here. Thewild thing!" she chuckled delightedly. "I do hope she'll marry Wilfred. Why, Mr. Hayden, she'd make something of him. Wilfred's not a fool by anymeans; but he's so dreadfully lazy. She'll be whip and spur to him. Whatdo I care for her fortune-telling and all her wild escapades! I like 'em. They make my old blood tingle. There's a girl after my own heart!"

"Dear me! Who is that?" peering through her glasses. "Maria Sefton and aparty! Good!" She went into a series of cackles that positively made herbones rattle. "Every one in town has heard of Wilfred's infatuation forthe Mariposa by this time, and there is just one question asked: 'Howwill that old witch of a mother of his behave now?'" Again she broke intopeals of her shrill, cackling laughter. "What will they say to this? Lookhow I've fooled them! Marcia on one side of me, the Mariposa on theother! They won't know which it is or why the other dear charmer's here, or what it all means. " She wiped away the tears laughter had brought toher eyes. Hayden saw now laid bare her underlying motive in urging Marciato be present. It was really to mystify her world. 

"Ah, Mr. Hampton--Henderson--I can truthfully say that through a longlife, I've never yet done the thing people expect of me. "

"I can well believe that, " Hayden assured her. He looked about him, downthrough the vista of the rooms with their differing and garish schemes ofdecoration, at the groups of people moving to and fro, at the wholekaleidoscopic, colorful picture. "Lots of people here to-day, " he said. 

"Oh, dear me, yes, " replied the old lady. "This is undoubtedly one of thegreat hotels of the world. Everything passes through here sooner orlater, except perhaps, the law of righteousness. Here comes Horace, he'snot bearing it, I am sure. How do you do, Horace?" Penfield, admirablydressed, slim, self-possessed and alert, bent over her hand, and noddedto Hayden. 

"I've just been granted an inspection of the new gown Edith Symmes hasordered for Bea Habersham's ball, " he said. "We've been at herdressmaker's and she drove me here on her way home. "

"I thought you looked pale, " said Mrs. Ames, viewing him through theinevitable lorgnon. "Go on, tell me all about it. "

"I'm afraid the details are too harrowing, " said Horace mildly. "The bodyof the gown--isn't that what you call it--? the ground-work, you know--"

"Yes--yes, that's all right, " nodded Mrs. Ames. "Go on--the body of thegown--"

"Is of a sort of sickly, mustard-colored satin with chocolate-coloredtrimmings, and wreaths of pink stuff and coral ornaments that look likelobster-claws. Really, it gives you quite a turn just to see it; andthen, she has some kind of a grass-green weeping-willow tree that she isgoing to wear in her hair. Really, the whole thing is pretty shuddery. Haunts you, you can't throw it off. " Penfield looked a trifle blue aboutthe mouth and so depressed that Hayden could not help laughing. 

"Edith is going beyond herself, " commented Mrs. Ames. "Some one ought tomarry her and reform her. Why not you, Horace?"

"'She killed a boy, she killed a man, why should she not kill me?'"quoted Horace gloomily. 

"Well, we'll have some luncheon and then you'll feel better, " consoledhis hostess. "Here come the girls now. "

Master of facial expression as he was, Horace could no more have helpedhis jaw dropping than he could his eyes blinking as Marcia and theMariposa, followed by Wilfred Ames, came toward them. Hayden wasparticularly struck by the fact that as the two girls walked down theroom laughing and talking, there was no suggestion in the manner ofeither of their being strangers or even formal acquaintances. There wasthe easy manner of old friendship between them, and he recalled again the"Ydo" that Marcia had inadvertently spoken that day in the Park, andpondered afresh. 

Marcia looked to Hayden's eyes more charming than ever. The slightlystrained expression about the mouth and eyes, which always caused him apang, was to-day quite effaced, and his heart throbbed with pleasure ashe caught the dear little smile that she gave him, and he saw that hereyes were full of a soft and radiant happiness. She wore a white clothown, with an immense black hat, the butterflies and her belovedCalifornia violets, a dewy and deliciously fragrant cluster which Haydenhad sent to her that morning. Ydo in rose color was a brilliant andeffective contrast to her. 

 "'As moonlight unto sunlight And as water unto wine, '"

murmured Penfield who was in the mood for quotation. 

Mrs. Ames arose and settling afresh her hideous row of black bracelets, led the way to the dining-room. She had ordered one of the mostconspicuous tables at an hour when the huge room was sure to be crowded, and she viewed with unabated, even increasing satisfaction the whisperedcomments from the tables where any of her acquaintances were sitting. Shehad created the sensation she desired. Fortune favored her. 

"There are enough here to spread this far and wide, " she whisperedcomplacently to Hayden, "and Horace is a host in himself on suchoccasions. One may always trust him to see that the good work goesmerrily on. The dear boy!" there was positive affection in her tone. "This will be in every one's mouth before night. It is better to haveHorace for a publicity bureau than to get out an 'extra. '"

"Look at the forest!" said Ydo quizzically calling Robert's attention tothe tall palms grouped about the room and the exotic, incongruous effectof the long fronds, which should properly have cast their shadows ondesert sands, but now must wave above the white surface of small tablesor be outlined harshly against the red and gold panels of the walls. "This is very different from the wilds, " she continued. "Hardly savors ofthe simplicity of drinking from the wayside spring and munching a bit ofbread and some fruit as one trudges along. Ah-h-h! That must be soon forme. "

"But Wilfred?" suggested Hayden in a low voice. "What are you going to doabout him?"

She glanced toward the imperturbable, lazy, blond giant, who sat talkingto Marcia, but always with his eyes fixed on Ydo, content merely to be inher presence. Then she lifted her round chin audaciously, "If I decide tolet him come with me, he will be well content. He hates cities and lovesthe open. He will be an excellent _camerado_, I assure you. But, ifWilfred does not care to go voyaging, voyaging, why, then he shall stay;but for myself, I must onward, away for ever from the old tents. "

She had lifted her voice slightly on the last words and Mrs. Ames lookingtoward her had caught them. "Ah, mademoiselle, " she broke in, "wheneveryou begin to talk, I've always got to stop and listen. Not because youutter words of wisdom by any means, " she gave a hard little chuckle, "butbecause when you talk, I hear again the voice of youth. It rings in yourtones and smiles in your eyes; it's something as effervescent andsparkling as the bubbles that rise in this wine. You are exactly like thenightingale in the old French fable. Just as irresponsible. You rememberhe sang all summer while the ants toiled unceasingly getting in theirwinter stores, and then when winter came, and he pined with hunger, thethrifty ants said: 'Do you not know that winter follows summer, and thatall roads lead to the desert?'"

Ydo leaned forward all aggression and animation. "But that is a wickedfable, " she cried, "for it tells only one side of the question. It nevertells what the nightingale said to the ants. But I know. He said: 'Pouf!Chut! I have sung my beautiful songs all summer and now you foolish antsthink I am going to starve. Stupid, short-sighted little insects! I shallsimply spread my wings, and fly away, not to the desert either, but tothe bounteous South, and there, under the great, yellow moon, among theilex trees, where the air is heavy with the fragrance of flowers, I shallsing as you have never dreamed I could sing. Adieu!'"

Mrs. Ames chuckled afresh. "They can't beat you--at any rate. "

"By the way, " said Hayden suddenly, "isn't that your secretary at thedoor?"

Ydo looked up surprised. "Certainly, it is Eunice, " she said, "Iwonder--"

Eunice, mournful and repressed, walked primly down the room in the wakeof a waiter and with a murmured word or two with the Mariposa, handed hera telegram. The latter, still with an expression of perplexity, requestedMrs. Ames' permission to open it, acquainted herself with its contents, and then turned to the secretary at her elbow. 

"That is all right, Eunice. There is no answer. " Then she leaned acrossHayden and spoke to Marcia, "Nothing of any importance, " with a faintshrug of the shoulders, "I dare say you will get one also. He merely saysthat he will not be home quite so soon as he expected. "

"He!" "He!" Hayden knew a pang of jealousy, like a stab of a stiletto. What "he" was of such interest to Marcia that he should send hertelegrams announcing his return home, or his failure to come? And whyshould this person, whoever he might be, also telegraph Ydo? His thoughtsreverted involuntarily to the gray-haired man "that ordinary, middle-agedperson, " who had accompanied her the night she had dined at theGildersleeve, the night that he, Hayden, had returned to her her silverbutterfly. Who was this shadowy creature, a sinister and skulking figurealways in the background? Doubts and fears assailed him. He suffered ahades of suspicion, a momentary and temporary hades--and then, he lookedat Marcia. She was talking across the table to Horace Penfield, andHayden noted the purely drawn oval of her face, the sensitive, delicatemouth, the sweet, wistful eyes, and all the incipient doubts which hadmade such an onrush upon his consciousness vanished, were routed and putto flight, and Marcia looked up to meet his gaze and suddenly, shyly, sweetly blushed. Again the world was his and his heart was flooded withsunshine. 

Mrs. Ames, well-pleased with the notice her party had attracted, wascomplacently arranging her bracelets preparatory to rising, when her eyewas evidently caught by the iridescent sheen of Marcia's butterflies. Sheheld up her glasses, the better to view them. 

"There is no manner of doubt about it, Miss Oldham, " she said in a ratherdry and grudging fashion, "that your butterflies are exquisite. I'm ajudge of jewels. I know. What's the reason, Miss Gipsy, that you haven'ta set? Not economy, I warrant. "

Ydo glanced at her from under her eyes, a slow, audacious smile formingabout her lips, "I mean to have a set, " she said composedly, "but I wantmine copied from one Mr. Hayden has in his collection. "

Marcia turned surprised eyes on Hayden. "I did not know that you were acollector of butterflies, " she said. 

"Oh, he is so modest!" Ydo's laughter rang out like a chime of bells, full of elfin malice. "But I am going to tell you a secret. He is thedistinguished discoverer of a rare and wonderful specimen of almostfabulous value. A specimen which collectors have supposed to be quiteextinct. "

Marcia's eyes were as round as saucers, and Mrs. Ames was surveying herunexpectedly distinguished guest with a respectful surprise of whichRobert would never have dreamed her capable. 

"Why have you never mentioned it to me?" cried Marcia, and there wasreproach in her tone. 

Hayden, annoyed at first, determined to out-match Ydo in her audacity, "But I have, " he cried, his eyes alight with fun, "only I called it by adifferent name. "

"A different name!" she puzzled. 

"One of the names in the vernacular, " explained Robert with gravemendacity, "is _the_ _cake_! I have often spoken to you, Miss Oldham, of'the cake. ' Of course, it has also its imposing Latin name. "

It was Ydo's turn to look puzzled now; the conversation seemed to beslipping away from her into channels that she could not follow. "Truly, "she cried, "I want a string of those lovely butterflies, so I will makeyou an offer, Mr. Hayden. I'll buy that butterfly. Name your price. "

"Believe me, mademoiselle, as I have told you before, there is no priceyou could name which would tempt me to sell outright. " His jaw lookedvery square and his gray eyes gazed very steadily into her dancing greenones. 

The Mariposa made a little face, a combination of lifted brows andtwisted mouth. "Just so, " she said spreading out her hands, "about what Iexpected; but even if you can't be tempted to sell outright, I dare sayyou do not mind showing the photographs?"

Hayden smiled grimly. "That is ingenuous, señorita. Of course, I have noobjection to showing the photographs--at the proper time. "

Mrs. Ames picked up her gloves and rose. "I don't know what you'retalking about. It's all Greek to me, " with her strident cackle, "but thisI do know, Hurlburt--Hammerton--and that is she'll get ahead of you, thisGipsy girl. Never doubt that. "

Marcia had grown slightly paler during the conversation, and now sheturned surprised, almost frightened, yes, frightened eyes from Hayden toYdo. 

CHAPTER XIV

The day of his dinner having arrived, Hayden found himself turned fromhis own doors by the ruthless Kitty and adrift upon the world. 

"Yes, you've simply got to go, " she said firmly in reply to hisprotestations. "The decorators will be here any minute and then we'llbegin to do things. You'll really be much happier at a club or on thestreets, anywhere rather than here, for if you insist on staying, you'llbe chased from pillar to post. You won't be able to find such a thing asa quiet corner in the whole apartment. Now go, just as quickly as youcan. "

Meekly he obeyed, humbly grateful that Tatsu was allowed to remain. Hecould trust Tatsu's diplomacy and powers of resource to save hischerished possessions, and ultimately to restore a seemly order from thechaos, he was sure that Kitty and her decorators would create. On thewhole, he succeeded in putting in about as stupid and empty a day as hehad expected, perhaps because he had expected it, but late in theafternoon, as he was strolling up the Avenue in the direction of home, heespied, with a feeling of genuine pleasure, the figure of Mrs. Habershama few paces ahead of him. The prospect of her society, if only for ablock or so, was a welcome relief to him. He felt rather aggrievedly thathe had been the prey of bores during the entire day, skilfully escapingone, only to be firmly button-holed by another. Therefore he quickenedhis steps to overtake Mrs. Habersham, whom he had always found especiallysympathetic and sincere. 

She, on her part, seemed delighted to see him. "I am just on my way hometo dress for your dinner, " she said, "and I wanted a bit of a walk first. Don't you feel the spring in the air?"

"Winter contradicts your statement, " laughed Hayden, as a cutting windcaused her to shiver and draw her furs more closely about her throat. 

"He can't deny those harbingers of spring anyway, no matter how hard hetries, " she waved her hand toward a florist's window full of jonquils, daffodils, lilacs, and lilies-of-the-valley. "Oh, " with a change ofsubjects. "I have been hearing on every side of Mrs. Ames' luncheonyesterday. It has assumed such importance as a topic of conversation, that it is now spoken of as 'the luncheon. ' There is fame for you! Whytruly, " laughing softly, "my curiosity was aroused to such an extent thatI have just been up to see Marcia and get all the details. "

"Then you have seen Miss Oldham to-day?" Hayden attempted to infuse intohis tones, merely polite, superficial interest; what he really put intothem was an eager longing to hear of his butterfly lady. 

"I have just come from her, " said Bea Habersham, "I do hope she will bemore like herself this evening!"

"Like herself!" Hayden wheeled sharply. "Why, what do you mean? Is shenot well? Is she ill?" He could not conceal his anxiety. 

"Oh, dear me, no. " Mrs. Habersham reassured him with a smile. "Not ill atall, not in the least. It was only--"

"Only what?" insisted Hayden. 

"Only that she seemed a bit--well, overwrought, not quite like herself. "

"How overwrought? Do tell me just how she appeared to you. I feel as ifyou were keeping something back, " urged Robert. 

"Nonsense. You are building up a great mountain out of a veryinsignificant mole-hill, " reproved Bea with a smile. "It is quite absurd. I see, however, " with a resigned smile, "that you will never be satisfiedunless I go into the most elaborate details and tell you just how shelooked and just what she said. "

"Oh, please, " so simply and earnestly, that her heart was touched and shegave him one of her rarest and most sympathetic smiles. 

"Very well, to begin then, " Bea spoke with assumed patience. "Of course, I feel exactly as if I were in the witness box, but what will one not dofor one's friends. Then to be quite circumstantial: This afternoon, Istopped at the Oldhams. Marcia was fortunately at home, and I noticed atonce that she was looking rather down in the mouth, and was verydistrait. She seemed in rather a peculiar state, to alternate from a moodof excitement to one of depression, and more than once while I wastalking to her, I saw the tears well up to her eyes. I, at first, thoughtthat her mother had been bothering her, for that Venus was in one of hermost exacting and fractious moods, but I soon came to the conclusion thatthat was not the root of the trouble. Fortunately, Marcia and I werealone for a short time before I left and I endeavored to find out whatwas weighing on her mind. Not from curiosity, believe me, but because Ifelt convinced that something of more than usual importance had disturbedher poise. 

"She would not really unburden herself to me, Marcia is so reticent andself-contained, you know; but she did admit that she was greatly worried. From the various things she said, I was able to piece out some facts, andyou are welcome to them, although, I must confess that I think they throwvery little light upon the matter. "

"Do let me know them!" begged Hayden. "You know, of course, dear Mrs. Habersham, that I can not bear to hear of her being unhappy ordistressed, and I should like nothing in all the world so much as to feelthat I could be of some assistance to her. "

"I am sure of that, " said Bea sweetly; "but to go on. After her motherleft the room, I asked Marcia if she were quite well. She looked a littlesurprised at the question, and then said: 'Yes, oh, yes, ' but in the mostlanguid and listless of manners. And all the time that I was talking toher, her mind seemed to be far, far away, as if she were workingconstantly over some problem, trying to think it out. To tell the truth, she really did not look ill; but just--well, just frightened. That isabout the only way I can express it. She really looked frightened. "

"But what could possibly have frightened her?" frowned Hayden. "Did shegive you any clue?"

"None whatever. As I say, she seemed to be thinking of something else, all the time she was speaking to me of perfectly extraneous subjects, until at last, I felt that I was taxing her powers of self-command, andthat the kindest thing I could do was to leave her to herself, since shewould not give me her confidence. "

"Strange, " murmured Hayden. "But don't you think it was probably someabsurd or tyrannical action of her mother's that caused her unhappiness?"

"It wasn't exactly unhappiness, " objected Mrs. Habersham. "It was more asif she had had some kind of a shock, and could not immediately recoverfrom it. Of course, I am only giving you my impressions, but it was moreas if she feared something, and this fear, whatever it was, grew insteadof decreasing. "

"Did you happen to learn how she had been putting in her time all day?"Hayden's mind went back to that telegram which had been handedMademoiselle Mariposa at the luncheon the day before, the telegram fromthe mysterious man, a message of interest to both Ydo and Marcia. Couldthat have anything to do with Marcia's present state of mind? He recalledthe puzzled and faintly alarmed gaze she had turned first on the Mariposaand then on himself at the conclusion of the luncheon yesterday, andinstead of finding any light in these reflections, he seemed to plungedeeper into the darkness. 

He shook his head slowly, completely perplexed. 

"Did she tell you how she had put in her day?" he repeated. 

"Let me see, " Mrs. Habersham thought a moment, "she had been atMademoiselle Mariposa's early in the afternoon; but what she did beforethat, I do not know. Of course, I suppose, she spent the morning at--ather studio. "

"She had been at the Mariposa's? Are you sure?" questioned Hayden. 

"Oh, positive. " Bea lifted her face to look at him in surprise. "Yes, Idistinctly remember her saying so. We were speaking of what we were towear to-night, and she mentioned Mademoiselle Mariposa's costumeparticularly. She said she had seen it this afternoon, that Ydo, as shecalls her, had shown it to her. "

"Mrs. Habersham, " Hayden looked down at her, his square face set, hiseyes full of decision, "I do not believe that I am prying into MissOldham's affairs, when I ask you, who have been her intimate friend sinceyour early school-days, --what is the cause for the friendship betweenMiss Oldham and Mademoiselle Mariposa? When did the acquaintance begin?"

Bea lifted sincere eyes to his. "Truly, Mr. Hayden, I do not know. I cannot throw any light on the subject. I remember though when we wereschool-girls, Marcia used to spin some fascinating yarns about thesayings and doings of her friend Ydo; but since the lady has made herspectacular appearance as a fortune-teller, the Veiled Mariposa, andbecome such a social fad, why, it is simply impossible to get anyinformation out of Marcia. Kitty and I have plied her with questions, because we were both interested in mademoiselle, but Marcia shuts hermouth tight and never says a word, merely remarking that for the present, Ydo desires nothing should be known. The more mysterious she appears, thebetter it is for business. Do you not think so?"

"Naturally, " he replied. 

"The only time I have ever seen them together, Ydo and Marcia, " continuedBea, who was in a loquacious mood and ready to be lured on by Hayden'sinterest, "was one evening when I happened to see them dining together atthe Gildersleeve. They were with Mr. ----" Bea hesitated the twinkling ofan eyelash, "an elderly man, " she concluded rather lamely. 

Hayden looked straight ahead. The words seemed to repeat themselves inhis brain. He remembered that other occasion when Marcia had been therewith an elderly man. His mind leaped to the conclusion that it was thesame--the same middle-aged person with whom he had later seen Marciadriving down the Avenue, and Horace Penfield had smiled and made someoffensive remark about the rich uncle from Australia. He felt convincedthat this was the man who had sent Ydo the telegram the day before, forYdo knew him. Had he, Robert, not seen him at her apartment? The demon ofjealousy began its diabolical whisperings, a mist seemed to float beforeHayden's eyes; but with all the strength of his nature, he refused tolisten. This demon was a visitor that he was resolved not to admit, nomatter how insistent its demands. Had he not promised Marcia his heart'sfealty? Had he not vowed to himself that no matter what mysteriesencompassed and enmeshed her, he would believe and never doubt? And heagain determined with all the strength of his soul to hold that faith sohigh and pure and clean that it should never know the stain of suspicion. 

"We are making too much of this matter, " said Bea resolutely, afterstealing a glance at Hayden's face. "It is a pity that a person can'tindulge in a mood now and then without having it subjected to anelaborate analysis by his friends. Marcia will appear to-night perfectlyradiant, I am sure, and you and I will feel like idiots. Do you know, Iquite reproached her for going to that luncheon yesterday. Why on earthshould she further any of Mrs. Ames' plans? I told her so frankly; butshe only smiled and said that it was trivial to notice such things. Thateven if Mrs. Ames had been rather catty, Wilfred had always been anespecially good friend of hers, and since she didn't believe in bearingmalice and harboring grievances, she was only too willing to be persuadedto go. 

"But what every one is frantic to know is, what did it all mean? Whyreally, there are two decided factions. One says it means that Mrs. Ameshas capitulated and that she took this method of announcing thewithdrawal of all opposition to an engagement between Wilfred and Marcia, and merely invited the Mariposa to show how foolish was the gossip aboutWilfred's devotion to her. The other faction asserts that there is reallysomething in all this talk about Wilfred's infatuation for MademoiselleMariposa, and that his mother countenances it and took this method ofshowing the world her approval of his choice. But every one is utterly atsea. No one knows really what to think. So you may fancy how tongues arewagging. 

"But good gracious! if I'm to be at your dinner on time, I've got to behurrying home, don't you think? Look at that darkening sky! By the way, Ihope Edith Symmes will not spoil the effect of everything with someterrible gown. Horace Penfield says that he has seen it and that it isthe most awful thing she has yet perpetrated. "

Hayden could not forbear laughing. "Horace misled you, " he said, "he toldus all about it at the luncheon yesterday. He had just been at herdressmaker's with her to look at it. He says it is really the mostatrocious thing he has ever seen; but, " triumphantly, "it will not gracemy humble dinner. It is being saved for a far more importantoccasion--your ball. "

"Oh, my goodness!" gasped Bea. "Well, " firmly, "I shall put a flea inEdith's ear. She must call a halt. She is simply letting that crazyimagination of hers run rampant. I shall speak to her to-night. "

CHAPTER XV

During the ten days allowed her for preparation Kitty continued charmedwith Hayden's idea of a butterfly dinner. It suited her volatile fancy. Her enthusiasm remained at high pitch, and she exerted herself to theutmost in behalf of her favorite cousin. As a consequence, although shemade a pretense of consulting Hayden about the various arrangements, thefinal results were almost as much of a surprise to him as to the rest ofthe guests, and as he walked through his rooms at the last moment headmitted to himself that Kitty really had surpassed herself. 

Yellow and violet orchids fluttered everywhere, carrying out thebutterfly effect; and while he stood admiring their airy andunsubstantial grace, Kitty floated in followed by Hampton, thin andkindly, with more of an expression of interest than he usually wore. 

"Why, Kitty, " cried Hayden, shaking hands with Hampton, "you look exactlylike a butterfly, a lovely little blue butterfly attracted here by theflowers. "

"But that is what I am, " Kitty answered him triumphantly. "A bluebutterfly. Don't you see my long wing-sleeves? And look at the bluebutterflies in my hair! Oh, " as Mrs. Habersham came in, "here is Bea. Isn't she gorgeous?"

Bea herself was the affirmative answer to that question. She was indeedgorgeous, a splendid brown butterfly with all kinds of iridescent effectsgleaming through her gauzes. Dark velvet outlined her skirt and floatingsleeves, and dark antennæ stood upright from the coils of her hair. 

Marcia, who was with her, to Hayden's infinite relief, was a whitebutterfly, looking very lovely, but, as he noticed with concern, palerthan he had ever seen her, and with something like distress in her eyes, quite perceptible to him if unnoticed by the rest. He could not keep hissolicitude out of his voice and glance, and this, he felt instinctively, annoyed, instead of gratifying her; for almost immediately she assumed agaiety of manner foreign to her usual gentle and rather cool reserve. 

His attention was distracted for the moment by the arrival of EdithSymmes, and the little group paid her the momentary attention of an awedsilence, for she had perpetrated what was, perhaps, the greatest atrocityof her life--a vivid scarlet gown which made her face look a livid wedge. 

"Don't you like this frock?" she whispered complacently to Bea Habersham. 

"No, you know it is a horror, Edith, " that lady replied, with thebluntness of intimacy. "I think, " turning and surveying her friend calmlyfrom head to foot, "that it is the very worst I have ever seen you wear, and that is saying a great deal. It makes you look like green cheese. ForHeaven's sake, put some other color on!"

"Not I. " Edith was quite unruffled. "You know perfectly well, Bea, thatif I wore what you and Kitty and the rest of the world would call decentclothes, that every one would say: 'How plain poor Edith Symmes is! Shedresses well, but that can not make up for her lack of beauty, ' But whenI wear these perfectly dreadful, glaring things that I love, what is saidof me? 'What a stylish, even a pretty woman, Edith Symmes might be, ifshe didn't wear such criminal clothes, ' Don't you see, you handsomeidiot, that I please myself and score at the same time?"

Not being able to refute these plausible arguments, Bea contented herselfwith stubbornly maintaining her point. "But red, Edith, why red? It is anightmare. Who ever heard of a scarlet butterfly?"

Edith laughed lightly. "I invented one just for this occasion. Such acompliment to Mr. Hayden. " Her serenity was not to be marred, andfortunately, before the discussion could go further, dinner wasannounced. 

The dining-room Kitty had transformed into a tropical bower. From anirregular lattice of boughs across the ceiling orchids fell as if theyhad grown and bloomed there. These were interspersed with long trails ofSpanish moss in which the lights were cunningly disposed. Orchids swayed, too, from the tops of the tall palms which lined the walls, and above thebright mass of the same flowers on the table floated on invisible wiresthe most vivid and beautiful tropical butterflies. 

Hayden was an admirable host. Possessing the faculty of enjoymenthimself, he succeeded in communicating it to his guests; and the dinner, as it progressed, was an undeniable success. Marcia, on his right hand, had apparently thrown off the oppression or worry from which she hadsuffered earlier in the evening, and, according to Mrs. Habersham allthrough the afternoon; and her evident enjoyment was immensely reassuringto Hayden, for it seemed to him both natural and spontaneous. 

"Bobby, " said Kitty, a few moments before they left the table, "I'mreally afraid after this that the rest of the evening will be a dreadfullet-down. I think if we showed the part of wisdom we'd all fly home assoon as we get up and keep intact a bright memory. "

"Ah, " said Hayden mysteriously, "you don't know what you would miss. Thebest of the evening is yet to come. I've got a whole bagful of tricks upmy sleeve. "

"I'm sure it's going to be a magic-lantern, or perhaps stereopticon viewsillustrating his thrilling adventures in darkest Africa, or New York, with himself well toward the center of the picture, " laughed EdithSymmes. 

"I wish it were, " said Penfield. "By the way, Hayden, you're amongfriends. We'll all promise to keep your guilty secrets; but do be frankand open if you can, and tell us the romantic story of your discovery inSouth America, and how you happened to find something a lot of people hadbeen searching for in vain. "

Hayden looked at Horace in surprise. That he should have ventured on thissubject was odd, and Robert was for the moment inclined to resent it. Forthe fraction of a second he hesitated; and then caught at the suggestion. He had been wondering how he should tell Marcia that he was thediscoverer of the lost and traditional mine on the estate, of which, hecontinued to believe intuitively and unreasonably, without a scintilla ofreal evidence, she was one of the owners. Yes, he had been wondering howhe should tell her and here was the opportunity. 

"Very well, I will, " he said quickly. "It isn't stereopticon views, or amagic-lantern, Mrs. Symmes. It's worse. It's photographs, and I'm verywell toward the center of the picture. With the best will in the world, now that I've got you all here, I shan't let you escape. You must listento the story of my life. "

He had sent for Tatsu, and, at the appearance of the Japanese servant, Robert whispered a word or two to him and he left the room. Just as hedid so Hayden felt a slight pressure on his arm. Turning, he met Marcia'seyes. Her gaze was fastened on him with a frightened, almost imploringexpression and he saw that she had again grown very pale. 

"What is it?" he said to her in a low voice. "You are not well, or youare unhappy about something. Do not feel it necessary to remain here ifyou would rather go home. "

"Oh, no, no!" she protested vehemently. "I am quite well, and I wouldrather stay, only, I implore you, I beg of you, not to show any maps orphotographs of that mine. I beg it!" Her voice, her eyes besought him. 

Tatsu returned at this moment with a package which he handed to Hayden, and the latter, taking it from him, looked carefully over its contents, allowing an expression of disappointment to over-cloud his face. 

"The wrong bundle, " he said mendaciously. "Too bad! And I might have tosearch an hour before laying my hands on the right one. I evidentlywasn't intended to bore you with any of my ancient mariner tales thisevening. This is distinctly an omen. " He lifted his brows slightly andsignificantly to Kitty, and she who was playing hostess, immediatelyrose. 

Hayden carried the package into the drawing-room with him and laid it ona small table. He felt puzzled and perplexed. What did Marcia know, andwhat was worse, what did she fear? For there could be no doubt that shewas badly frightened. How flat had fallen his happy plan of letting herknow that he, by some joyous and romantic chance, was the discoverer ofthe long-lost Veiled Mariposa! But the party was far too small for anyone member of it to engage in meditation, and Hayden as host found hisattention claimed every moment. For a calm review of this odd occurrenceand any attempt to arrive at a satisfactory explanation of Marcia's wordsand actions he saw clearly he would have to wait until the departure ofhis guests. 

It was a real relief, a positive relaxation from strain, therefore, whenTatsu threw open the door and unctuously announced Mademoiselle Mariposa. There was the slightest rustle of skirts, the faint waft of an enchantingfragrance, and Ydo came forward. As usual, her little mask concealed herface, revealing only her sparkling eyes, and her mantilla of Spanish lacecovered her hair! but she had discarded her customary black gown. She, too, was a butterfly, this evening, a glowing yellow one with deep linesof black and touches of orange and scarlet, a gown as vivid and daring asherself. As she advanced with her exquisite and undulating grace ofcarriage, a little thrill ran through the group, for although they hadmoved in an atmosphere of color all evening, she seemed in some subtleand individual way to express deeper and more vital tints, and veiled, asshe was, to cause even the lights to flicker and grow dim. 

Behind her followed her private secretary, more demure and colorless thanever, bearing the various objects Mademoiselle Mariposa would need in theexercise of her profession. 

All of the women, in fact the whole party, greeted her with warmexpressions of pleasure with the exception of Marcia who, Hayden thought, looked more distressed, even more alarmed than ever. 

Ydo returned their pleasant speech with her accustomed ease, and thenturning to Hayden, as if consulting him about the arrangements for herfortune-telling, said in a low tone:

"The man you wish to see has returned and I have arranged a meeting in mylibrary to-morrow afternoon between you and the owners of the property. You will be there, of course. "

"Naturally. " He smiled. Ah, the thing was really to be settled at last. He drew a long sigh of relief as the burden of this waiting and suspensefell from his shoulders. Hayden's experience since the discovery of TheVeiled Mariposa had convinced him that anything, anything was better thanuncertainty. 

Meantime, Ydo, her Spanish accent more marked than usual, if anything, had asked: "Which is it first? The palms, or the crystal, or what, señor?" addressing Hayden. 

"Do not leave it to me, " he answered. "Ask the ladies. "

The Mariposa turned inquiringly to the group of butterflies. 

"Oh, the crystal, " said Bea Habersham. "I'm sure mademoiselle couldn'tfind a new line on any of our hands. "

"The crystal, Eunice. "

Ydo spoke to the secretary over her shoulder, and that young womansilently and very deftly set to work. She cleared a small table, placedit in front of the Mariposa, and deposited upon it the cushion and thecrystal, and finally, she threw some powder into a quaint bronzeincense-brazier, and then seated herself at the piano. 

"I will ask the rest of you to remain absolutely quiet, " said Ydo. "Now, Eunice, begin. "

Eunice obediently struck a few strange chords, and then fell into amonotonous melody with a recurring refrain repeated again and again. Theblue smoke from the incense-brazier curled lazily upward in long spiralsand floated through the room, filling it with a pungent and heavysweetness; the monotonous music went on, the strange rhythm recurring inan ever stronger beat. The Mariposa who had sat motionless gazing at thecrystal began to speak. 

"Ah, the vision is not clear to-night. I see nothing but clouds. Yourfigures appear for a moment and then disappear. Ah, here is Mr. Haydenstanding on a mountain top with his hands full of gold. "

There was an explosion of laughter at this, and the Mariposa paused as ifinnocently surprised. "Clouds!" she gazed into the crystal again. "Ah, here is Mrs. Symmes. I see you in an immense studio, painting, paintingall the time, canvas after canvas. You will in the future devote yourlife to art, madame. You will give up the world for it. "

She paused and Edith, casting a triumphant glance at Mrs. Habersham, admitted that she had been cherishing just such an ambition, looking onlythe more pleased at the unrestrained horror and surprise manifested byher friends. 

"Miss Oldham, I see Miss Oldham, now, " continued Ydo. "She weeps. She isnot happy. Idle tears. "

Hayden did not hear the rest, he looked about for Marcia, but she hadvanished, slipped from the room. Strange, he had not seen her go, butthen she had that peculiarly noiseless way of moving. While he ponderedover it she slipped in again without sound, the faintest of rustles, nothing to attract the attention of the others. She was still as white asa snowdrop, but he thought her expression far calmer and less agitated. 

But before any one else had time to notice her reappearance, attentionwas concentrated on Wilfred Ames. He had scarcely spoken during dinner, and since they had returned to the drawing-room, he had kept in thebackground, giving every one rather plainly to understand that he did notcare for conversation. Now, he came forward, his face, which had been setand grim and moody all evening, was white and his eyes were burning. Never for one moment, did those eyes waver from the Mariposa. He seemedEntirely oblivious to the rest of the group, and it was obvious that forhim they simply did not exist. 

"What do you see here for me?" he tapped the crystal with his forefinger. His voice was low and yet so vibrating with strong and uncontrolledemotion, that it reached the ears of all. 

There was storm in the air, the whole atmosphere of the room seemedsuddenly charged as if with electricity, and there was no one present whodid not feel through all the color and gaiety, the pulse and stir ofpotent and irresistible forces. 

But the Mariposa, after her first involuntary start of surprise andapprehension, had recovered her poise and now strove to control thesituation. "One moment, give me but a second to gaze deeply into thecrystal and I will tell you, that is if the pictures will formthemselves. "

"Oh, I beg you to drop that nonsense, " Wilfred's voice rang wearily. "It's only a pose. You believe in it no more than any one else. Aren'tyou tired of that sort of game? Of playing with us all as if we were somany children? Well, if you're not, I am. I tell you, Ydo, I've hadenough of it. You threw me over yesterday, for no reason under the sun. Just caprice, whim--you can't whistle me back and throw me overto-morrow. This question's going to be decided here and now for ever. Will you marry me or not?"

"Señor!" Ydo's voice was low, surprised, remonstrating, indignant. "Youforget yourself. This is no place to make a scene or to spread before theworld our private affairs. I must beg you--"

Wilfred waved his hands impatiently, as if brushing away her objections. "My answer, Ydo. Here and now. "

[Illustration]

She seemed completely nonplussed, and Hayden divined that this proud andresourceful Ydo felt herself overmatched and outwitted for the firsttime. She stood perfectly still, but gazing through her mask at Ames. "I--I think that you will get your heart's desire, señor, " she murmuredat last, her voice broken, inaudible. 

Ames stepped forward, still oblivious to the fact that there were otherpeople present. His face had grown still whiter but upon it there wasalready an irradiation of joy. "Do you mean it?" he said in a low voicevibrating with some strong feeling. "Do you mean it?"

The little group looked at him in amazement. Was this eager man with theburning, intense eyes, the unruffled and imperturbable Wilfred, to whoseplacid silence they were so accustomed?

"Why, Wilfred!" exclaimed Edith Symmes. "What on earth has come overyou?"

But Ames paid not the least attention to her. It was as if he had notheard her voice. "Is it true?" he said again, his eyes fixed unwaveringlyon the black mask of the Mariposa. 

"Yes, señor, " she almost whispered. "Yes, it is true. But in the future, mind you. I see only the future. "

"Then tell your maid to throw all this stuff out of the window, " Wilfredagain rapped the crystal. "You've done with it for ever. "

The spell was broken. Hayden and his temporarily stupefied guests rousedthemselves, and crowded about Ydo and Wilfred in a chorus of questionsand congratulations; but every one felt that the moment for departure hadcome, and in the babble of adieus Hayden made an effort to get a moment'sspeech with Marcia alone, but in some feminine and elusive way shedivined his intention and frustrated it, and in spite of thecongratulations of his guests he was left standing upon his lonely hearthwith a desolate feeling of failure. 

He could hardly say what was the matter. Everything had gone without ahitch; that is, until staid old Ames had so hopelessly forgotten himself. The dinner was perfect, the decorations were beautiful, the small groupof congenial people had seemed to enjoy themselves immensely, and best ofall, Ydo had brought him the wonderful news that his period of suspenseand waiting was practically over. By this time to-morrow night he wouldknow where he stood; and yet, reason about it as he would, the sense ofelation and buoyant hope was gone, and in its stead was some dull, unhappy sense of foreboding, a premonition of impending disaster. 

For him, at least, there had been some ghastly blight over the wholeaffair. Why, why had Marcia appeared pale and distressed? And what wasfar more puzzling, why had she begged him not to show the photographs ofthe mine upon Penfield's request? Was it that she did not wish one of hisguests to know too much about the matter? If so, which one? And how didshe know anything about his connection with the mine, anyway?

He tossed and turned for hours trying to arrive at some half-wayplausible or satisfactory solution; but none occurred to him, and hefinally fell into troubled sleep. 

CHAPTER XVI

As was natural after so restless a night, Hayden slept late the nextmorning, but when he awoke it was with his usual sense of buoyantoptimism. The forebodings of the night had vanished, and the good, glad, fat years stretched before him in an unclouded vista. To-day in allprobability marked the conclusion of his comparatively lean years. A halfan hour of conversation with those mysterious "owners, " the disclosure ofhis maps, photographs, ore samples, the report of the assayers, etc. , andthen, the final arrangements. It might result in a trip to the property;but a journey made, his high heart promised, with Marcia. 

At the thought of her a slight cloud obscured the shining towers of hisSpanish castles. He recalled with a pang her pallor, her agitation of thenight before. Something had evidently lain heavily upon her mind; she hadbeen greatly distressed, even alarmed; but with the confidence of a loverhe saw himself a god of the machine, consoling, reassuring, dissipatinggrief, and causing smiles to take the place of tears. 

Upheld by these pleasant reflections, he breakfasted and then strolledthrough the rooms. They had been put in perfect order. And with theexception of the orchids, now sedately arranged in bowls and vases, instead of fluttering from palm-trees and lattices, there was no trace ofthe last night's festivities. Suddenly he bethought himself of gettingtogether his photographs, etc. , in readiness for the interview of theafternoon; but they were no longer on the small table between thedrawing-room windows, where he had placed them the night before. 

After seeking for them in every likely place for a few moments, Haydenrather impatiently summoned Tatsu and demanded to know what he had donewith them. Tatsu, however, was a picture of the grieved ignorance heprofessed. He said that after every one had left the apartment, the nightbefore, he had locked up very carefully and gone to bed; that he hadarisen early in the morning, shortly after five, and had put the rooms intheir present and complete order; and he was positive that there were nophotographs upon the table then. 

Hayden questioned him closely about the extra servants taken on for theoccasion; but he insisted that none of them had penetrated farther thanthe dining-room, and that he, himself had seen them all leave before thedeparture of the guests. 

"There is a possibility that I may have tucked them away somewhere andhave forgotten about them, " said Hayden half-heartedly. "Come, Tatsu, letus get to work and make a systematic search for them. Don't overlook anypossible nook or cranny into which they may inadvertently have beenthrown. "

The two of them, master and man, made a diligent and careful search, taking perhaps an hour, but not a trace of the lost package could theyfind; then, dazed, puzzled beyond words, unbelieving still, but with aheavy sinking of the heart, Hayden sat down to face the situation, tomake some attempt to review it calmly and to get matters clear in his ownmind. 

Their recent search eliminated himself from the situation; reluctantly herelinquished the hope that in an absent-minded moment he had disposed ofhis precious bundle in some out-of-the-way place. No, he and Tatsu hadsought too thoroughly for that to remain a possibility. Eliminating thenhimself, there remained Tatsu. Although perfectly convinced in his ownmind of his valet's innocence, still, for the purposes of inquiry, hewould presume him to be the thief. Of course nothing could have beeneasier than for him to purloin the photographs; but what reason would hehave for doing so? The motive, where would be the motive? Would not thereasonable hypothesis be that the Japanese had been approached by some ofthe owners of the property, who either fearing or suspecting that he, Hayden, held visible proofs of the lost mine, had bribed his servant togain the desired information? But admitting this to be the case, andHayden did not believe it for a moment, why had Tatsu remained instead ofdeparting as prudence would seem to dictate?

That of course could be explained by assuming that prudence dictatedanother line of policy, that he deemed it the best way of avertingsuspicion. Perhaps! But the conclusion was not particularly satisfactory. Every lead Robert had followed seemed to bring him to a blind wall. Herose restlessly and walked up and down the room, and then sat down again, drumming drearily on the arm of his chair. What now? What new line couldhe follow? By eliminating the servants, Tatsu, and himself, whatremained? His guests. He felt a swift recoil at the bare suggestion, eventhough a mental and hidden one, of implicating them in this matter, andexperienced a succeeding disgust and impulse to abandon his inquiry atonce. 

Yet, there were the facts, the ugly, inexplicable facts staring him inthe face, and he knew that it would be impossible for him to abandon thematter, mentally at least, until he had arrived at some sort of asatisfactory solution. His guests, he ran them over. In every instance, even if they were capable of such an act, the motive was lacking, save inone case. Steadily as the needle veers to the pole, his suspicionspointed to the Mariposa. There at least the motive was not lacking. 

Ah, he reflected, falling into deeper gloom, if she had them, then he wasindeed lost. Even now, by this time, there would be a set of duplicatephotographs made, and careful copies of his charts and maps. In somepeculiar way he would probably find the photographs again on his table, and all further communication with him on the subject of The VeiledMariposa would doubtless be declined by the owners of the property, theirvoice being Mademoiselle Mariposa. Within the shortest possible time, oneof their prospectors on the property would discover the hidden trail, andthe owners would begin immediate operations, and he as much out of alltransactions as if he did not exist. 

Suppose he put a detective on the case immediately; it was extremelylikely that before the man could take any steps in the matter or decideon the line he meant to follow, the photographs would again be inHayden's possession. 

No, he thought in bitter cynicism, he might as well await their returnwith what calmness he could muster, for he saw little or no use in takingany definite steps in the matter. 

For a time he remained sunk in a listless dejection, sitting among theashes of his hopes, his dreams of vast wealth gone, his shining Spanishcastles in ruins about him. But again his dulled brain began to work. Howdid Ydo secure the photographs, if indeed it were she who had securedthem? She had come late, laid aside her wraps in the dressing-room, andhad entered the drawing-room followed by her secretary. From the momentof her first appearance he remembered practically every motion she hadmade. She had not moved about at all during her brief stay and hadcertainly not been anywhere near the table which had held thephotographs, but had seated herself and gone through her tricks on theopposite side of the room. 

Now as to the secretary. Well, she on her part had not moved from thepiano-stool. He could see her, too, enter the room and leave it. Thewhole mental picture of the group was portrayed before him. As hedistinctly remembered, the person who stood nearest the table whileMademoiselle Mariposa drew aside the veil of the future, was EdithSymmes, who sat almost directly before it. To the left of her was Marcia, pale and sad, and close beside her Horace Penfield. Heavens! He jumpedimpatiently to his feet. He was simply getting into a morbid muddlesitting here brooding over this matter. He must have action, action ofsome kind, and obeying a sudden impulse, he decided to see Ydo at once. 

Wasting no time in reflection, he telephoned to her apartment, andimpressed upon the surprised and reluctant maid that no matter who wasthere, or what the appointments for the day might be, he must see hermistress within the half-hour on business of the most imperative nature. 

His rapid and excited speech must have impressed the young woman with theurgency of the case, for she presently returned to the telephone with themessage that if he would call within the next twenty minutes MademoiselleMariposa would see him. 

It is needless to say that Hayden lost no time in getting to theMariposa's apartment-house, but reached it as fast as a chauffeur couldbe induced to make the run thither, and was, after a very brief delay, admitted to Ydo's library. She was sitting there alone, looking over anewspaper, and as he came through the door she sprang up smilingly andexpectantly to meet him. Then at the sight of his pale and harassed faceshe recoiled in evident and unsimulated surprise. 

"Why, what is the matter?" she cried. "You have aged a thousand years!"

"Matter enough!" he exclaimed. "The photographs and maps of The VeiledMariposa are all, all gone. They have been taken. " He shot the words ather as from a rapid-fire gun, watching keenly from narrowed and scornfuleyes the effect upon her. 

Her very lips grew white. "Impossible!" she gasped. "Impossible!" Hersurprise was as genuine as the slow, sickly pallor which had over-spreadher face. He could not doubt her. Supremely clever woman as she was, shewas incapable of this kind of acting. He gave a quick sob, almost a sobof relief. If not against him she would be for him and her assistancewould be invaluable, especially since their interests were pooled. 

"Then you, " he stammered involuntarily, "you know nothing about it?"

"I!" Her eyes glittered in quick anger. "Of what are you thinking? Oh, Isee. " She was laughing now. "Oh, no, no, no! Dear me, no! That would notsuit my game at all. If you knew the circumstances and, if I may ventureto suggest it, myself better you would never have dreamed of such athing. But, " frowning now, "when and how were they taken? Begin at thebeginning and tell me all about it. "

"There is nothing much to tell, " he said. "I sent for the photographswhile still at the dinner-table intending to tell my guests the story ofthe mine, but--but--" He stammered a little. "I changed my mind. When weleft the table I carried them with me, and placed them on the small tablebetween the drawing-room windows. "

"And left them there?" she asked quickly. 

"Yes, after laying them on the table I dismissed them from my mind, hadno further remembrance of them until this morning. Then I went to getthem and found them gone. My first idea was that having the appointmentwith you for this afternoon so on my mind I had probably gotten up in thenight and hidden the package somewhere, either when asleep or in a stateof half-wakefulness; but Tatsu and I made a most thorough search of theentire apartment, over-looking no possible receptacle where I might havehidden them, and there is absolutely no trace of them. "

"The servants, " she said rapidly. 

"I was coming to them. They were all taken on for the dinner, with theexception of Tatsu, who has been with me for years, and whom, I think, Iwould trust further than I would myself. When I questioned him he wasextremely clear and quick in his answers. His story is that the extraservants all departed before my guests did, and that he personally sawthem each one leave and locked the door after them. Then, after theguests had gone he locked up the other rooms very carefully and went tobed. This morning he got up early and put the whole apartment in order;and he is positive, and when Tatsu is positive he is not apt to bemistaken, that neither the photographs nor the maps were on that table, nor indeed anywhere in the rooms at five o'clock in the morning. "

The Mariposa listened attentively to what he had to say, and then thoughtdeeply for a few moments. 

"There are only two possible explanations of the whole affair, which arein the least plausible, " she said at last. "One is that some interestedperson or persons have heard of your find. It might be some prospectorwho has been tracking you for weeks, and he, or they may have stolen thepapers with a view of communicating with the owners, whom they may knowand whom they may fancy that you have not discovered. Your valet may ormay not be a tool, that remains to be discovered. Well, " resolutely, "inthat case there is nothing to fear, I can assure you of that. 

"The other hypothesis is that one of the guests had a motive for removingthose especial maps and photographs, thus securing possession of them. But who and why?" As she pondered this question an expression of moststartled and amused surprise swept over her face, and then she burst outlaughing. "How funny!" she cried. "How awfully funny!" The peals of hersilver laughter rang through the room. 

"What is so awfully funny?" inquired Hayden politely, but with anirritation he could not conceal. "I assure you, it does not seem funny tome. "

Ydo had evidently recovered her spirits; the sparkle had come back to hereyes, the color to her cheeks. "Don't bother any more, " she counseledblithely. "It's all going to turn out right now. You see. "

"I should prefer to know how. " Hayden's irritation was increasing insteadof diminishing, and he spoke more stiffly than before. "As it is a matterwhich concerns me primarily and which has caused me much worry I think itonly fair that you should share with me the knowledge which seems tojustify you in drawing such happy conclusions. "

Hayden would never again be nearer losing his temper completely than hewas at this moment, for Ydo, after gazing at him for a moment with a sortof whimsical, mock seriousness, again broke into laughter. "Who wouldever have dreamed of her doing such a thing?" she apostrophized theceiling. 

"Her!" Hayden felt as if his heart had stopped beating for a moment andthen begun again with slow and suffocating throbs. Perhaps Ydo saw orguessed something of his emotion, for she again repeated reassuringly:"It will be all right now within a few hours. You Will see. "

"It's going to be dropped, " he said in a dull, toneless voice. "It's myaffair, Mademoiselle Mariposa, and you are not going to make the leastmove in the matter. Your suspicions--whichever one of my guests theyaffect, and I can not even surmise which one you are trying toimplicate--are quite beside the mark. This is entirely my own affair, andI tell you, we are going to drop it. Do you hear?"

Ydo leaned forward, her chin upon her hand, and surveyed him with ahumorous, unabashed and admiring scrutiny. "Brother in kind if not inkin, little brother of the wild, you are great. But do you mean what yousay? Are you really willing to run the chance of giving up a fortune toprotect--"

"Nonsense!" he broke in roughly. "Don't go any further. There's no use intalking the thing over. " He again sank into somber silence. 

But Ydo was apparently unmoved. "There is one thing I meant to ask youthis afternoon, " she said, "but since I shall probably not have anopportunity to do so I want my curiosity appeased. Why is that minecalled The Veiled Mariposa? Did you happen to find out?"

"Yes, " he answered, still entirely without interest. "Because, as themaps and photographs show, the only way to reach it is by a little hiddentrail just back of a waterfall. You would never suspect it. I happened onit by the merest chance, followed it, and discovered that the mine laybehind this mountain cascade. "

"Ah, beautiful!" Ydo clapped her hands. "I remember, I am sure, the verycascade. Although perhaps not, there were many. "

"You have been on the ground then?" he asked. 

"Ah, yes, with prospectors. But, " with a shrug of the shoulders, "we werenot so lucky as you. "

"The interview for the afternoon is of course off, " he said, risingheavily and stretching out his hand for his hat. 

"I suppose so, " conceded Ydo. She smiled and sighed. "The pretty littlecoup I had planned is smashed. I have been arranging it for weeks, eversince I learned that you were interested in--But the gods have decreedit differently and have taken the matter into their own hands. Ah, well!But I shall hear again from you to-day; and you will hear from me. "

CHAPTER XVII

Hayden was half ill when he left Ydo's apartment. He felt a curiousstifling sensation, a longing for air and motion and so strong was thisfeeling that he decided to dismiss the motor and walk home; but he hadproceeded only a block or so, when he noticed an electric brougham drawup to the sidewalk. His heart gave a quick throb for he saw that Marcia'schauffeur was driving; but a moment later, his hopes were turned todisappointment, for instead of Marcia's dear face, the somewhat worn andworried countenance of her mother gazed out. 

The moment she caught a glimpse of him, she brightened perceptibly andwith a quick motion summoned him. Almost mechanically he made his wayacross the crowded sidewalk and took the hand she extended. 

"Oh, Mr. Hayden, " with a plaintive quaver in her voice, "won't you driveabout a little with me? I must talk to some one. I must have adviceand--and the sympathy that I know your generous heart will be only tooready to give. It may be unconventional to ask you, and I may be takingup far too much of your valuable time. You will tell me frankly if thisis so, will you not?"

Hayden murmured a polite protest, and expressed his appreciation of theprivilege in a few words, scarcely conscious of what he was saying, andthen sank into the seat beside her, inwardly lamenting his stupidity thathe had so impulsively dismissed his waiting taxicab. 

"So unconventional!" again murmured the lady as he took his seat, "butthen, I am all impulse and intuition. As Mr. Oldham has so often said tome, 'I would rather depend on your intuitions than on the reasoning ofthe wisest statesmen. ' Very, very absurd of him, and yet so dear and inone sense, true. "

"True in all senses, " said Hayden with the gallantry expected of him. This Venus Victrix was not so critical as to cavil at the manifest effortin his tones. Let it be forced or spontaneous, a compliment was acompliment to her. 

"Mr. Hayden, Robert, if I may call you so, I am very, very unhappy thismorning, and--and I have no one, no one to console or comfort me. "

Hayden felt a quick impulse of pity, for there was that in her speech andappearance which convinced him that she really was fretting oversomething, and he saw that under her careful powder and rouge her facelooked worn and worried. 

"Dear Mrs. Oldham, " he said with the effect at least of his naturalmanner, "I am sure you are bothering. Will you not tell me why and let meat least try and be of some service to you? You know that I shall be onlytoo delighted to have you make me useful in any way that you can. "

He spoke with sincere earnestness, for the small, frail creature besidehim, her Dresden-china prettiness all faded and eclipsed, her coquetryextinguished, roused in him a sense of pity and protection. 

"Ah, Mr. Hayden, Robert, --you gave me permission to call you Robert, didyou not?--you are too, too kind, " She leaned her head back against thecushions and carefully dabbled her eyes with her handkerchief. 

"Now please, do not think of that, " he urged; "just consider what apleasure it is to me to be of service to you. "

"Ah, " she threw aside all pretense now, and turning to him clutched hisarm, "the most terrible things have been happening and I have had to bearthem all alone. Marcia, " petulantly, "has left me to bear all thingsalone. She did not come home at all last night, but Kitty Hamptontelephoned quite late, after I had gone to bed, that she would spend thenight at her, Kitty's, home. Fancy! Rousing me from my sleep like that!And then, early this morning, Marcia telephoned herself and said that shecould not possibly be at home before evening. Imagine! Thethoughtlessness, the heartlessness of such a thing!

"But that, " resignedly, "that was a mere drop in the bucket. I wish herfather were alive! How he would tower in indignation at the thought of mybeing so neglected and ignored, and by my own daughter, too, --a girl onwhose education he lavished a fortune! Why, Mr. Hayden, forgive me, Robert, he would turn in his grave, literally turn in his grave, and"--ina burst of fitful weeping--"he may be quite aware of it, for all we know, and he may be turning in his grave at this very minute. "

"Dear Mrs. Oldham, " the late and ever lamented Oldham himself, could nothave been more sympathetic, "you must have been very lonely indeed, andvery much bored, I can quite understand that, but surely, you are notmaking yourself unhappy over this--this seeming neglect on the part ofyour daughter. Believe me, you will find that she has some good reasonfor this action. Surely that is not the only thing that is worrying you. "

"Certainly not, " The little lady tossed her head and spoke with emphasis. "Marcia's selfishness and thoughtlessness and indifference toward one whoshould be the dearest thing on earth to her is very hard to bear, very;but I am not made of the stuff that could break under an affliction ofthat kind. Mr. Oldham used so often to say that he never saw suchfortitude and courage, never dreamed that such qualities existed in womenuntil he knew me, and saw the way I met trouble. Oh, no indeed, " againdabbling her eyes, "that is not it at all. No, my only feeling aboutMarcia's conduct is that I have been left to bear intolerable grief andInsult alone. "

"Intolerable grief and insult alone!" Hayden really roused himself. "Mydear Mrs. Oldham, those are strong words. What can possibly havehappened?"

"That is just it. It is a case requiring strong words, " she said firmly. "Who do you think paid me a visit this morning? Why, Lydia Ames, whohasn't darkened my doors since Wilfred became interested in Marcia. Theidea!" overcome by indignation. "What did she want? A princess of theblood? Apparently not! She wants instead a fortune-teller, a madcap likeYdo Carrothers. She spent the whole time this morning telling me howcharming and fascinating Ydo was and what a fillip she gave to life. Itold her frankly that I had been very thoroughly acquainted with Miss YdoCarrothers from her youth up, and that she would be a handful for anyone. I'd as lief undertake to chaperone a cyclone. She only chuckled inthat disagreeable way of hers and spoke of Wilfred's admiration for thatGipsy. When, Robert--you see I was able to say it that time--when everyone has been talking, for the past year of Wilfred's devotion to Marcia. Such a dear fellow and so rich! I loved him like a son; and now, now theyWill say that he has jilted her, jilted Marcia, and you know, Robert, agirl never recovers from that sort of thing. 

"And then, Lydia Ames, horrid thing, said, oh, how can I tell it, thatshe was anxious to present Ydo, Ydo Carrothers, forsooth, with a set ofbutterflies as beautiful as Marcia's. Oh, Mr. Hay-- Robert, did you, didyou ever hear of anything so cruel? Oh, I tried not to think she had anyparticular reason for saying it, when in walked Edith Symmes, EdithSymmes of all people, and do you know, Robert, she began to get off thesame thing. "

She paused to let the enormity of this sink into his consciousness. Thetears were streaming down her face, a mask of tragedy, and Hayden couldonly gaze at her in profound perplexity. 

"I'm afraid, I don't know quite what you mean, " he said slowly. 

So absorbed was she with her grief that she did not appear to have heardhim. "You know how malicious they both are, " she wailed, "and both ofthem coming at the same time meant something. 'Talking of butterflies'?Edith Symmes said in that way of hers, 'Well, Mrs. Oldham, you needn'tput on such airs because Marcia has the loveliest set in town; nor you, Mrs. Ames, because you're thinking of ordering a set, for I'm going tohave a set myself, ' Oh, you see, it meant something. "

"Mrs. Oldham, " said Hayden with the calmness of desperation, "will younot kindly tell me just what you mean? I am utterly and entirely at sea. "

"They mustn't know the secret of those detestable butterflies, " sheanswered miserably. 

"What secret, Mrs. Oldham?"

"Why, the way Marcia is involved. Oh, " weeping afresh, "it's too, toomuch. Oh, if Mr. Oldham were only here!"

It was impossible to get a coherent explanation from her, and Hayden feltas if he could bear no more. He had only one desire, one longing, toescape, to be alone, to sit down in some quiet spot, and try to pullhimself together sufficiently to think things out. 

"Dear Mrs. Oldham, " he said gently, "I am convinced that you are worryingyourself unnecessarily. Won't you go home now and rest, and let me seeyou this evening or to-morrow? I am sure you will then take a calmer viewof the matter. I am going to leave you now. I have some business matterswhich must be attended to at once. Good-by. "

CHAPTER XVIII

By the time Hayden had reached his own door his nerves were steadied andhis poise somewhat restored. He felt sore and bruised in spirit, however, and desired nothing so much as to sit by himself for a time and thinkout, if possible, some satisfactory arrangement of this tormentingmatter. But, as he threw open the door of his library with a sensation ofrelief at the prospect of a period of unbroken solitude, he stoppedshort, barely repressing the strong language which rose involuntarily tohis lips. 

In spite of the fact that spring had at last made her coy and reluctantdébut, there had been a sharp change in the weather and winter again heldthe center of the stage. Regardful of this fact, Tatsu had built aroaring fire in the library to cheer Hayden's home-coming. The flamescrackled up the chimney and cast ruddy reflections on the furniture andwalls; last night's orchids seemed to lean from their vases toward thisdelightful and tropical warmth, and there, with a chair drawn up as nearthe hearth as comfort permitted, was Horace Penfield, long, lean, cold-blooded, enjoying the permeating glow and radiance. 

He turned his head lazily when Hayden opened the door, and Robert in hisindignation felt a faint chill of apprehension as he met that glance. Penfield's eyes had lost their usual saurian impassiveness. They werealmost alive, with that expression of interest which only the lapses andmoral divagations of others could arouse in them. 

"Hello!" he said, indifferent to the fact that Hayden still stoodfrowning in the doorway. "I've been waiting about half an hour for you. "

"Anything especial?" asked Robert coldly, walking over and standing bythe mantelpiece, his moody gaze on the burning logs. 

Penfield chuckled. "Oh, I don't know. " There was an unconcealed triumphin his tones; but he had no intention of being hasty, he meant to extractthe last drop of epicurean pleasure that was possible in this situation. Penfield was not lacking in dramatic sense, and he had no intention oflosing any fine points in the narration of his news by careless andslovenly methods of relation. 

"No, " he continued, "nothing particular; but I've lately run across oneor two things which I fancied might be of interest to you. By the way, "with the effect of branching off with a side issue, "of course you knowthat Ames' engagement to the Mariposa is announced?"

"I know nothing of Ames' private affairs, " returned Hayden shortly. "Howshould I?"

"You might have judged that from the way he behaved last night. " Penfieldagain indulged in a series of unpleasant chuckles. "His mother! Lord!There'll be the deuce to pay there! Look at the way she's been behavingover his attentions to Marcia Oldham, and then just fancy how she'll takethis! She evidently gave that luncheon the other day to propitiateMarcia, and invited the Mariposa to show the world that Wilfred'sso-called infatuation was merely an amiable and tepid interest. Iwouldn't miss seeing the fun for a farm--no, not for all those lost minesof yours. I think that I shall drop in for a cup of tea with the old ladythis afternoon, and murmur a few condolences in her ear, and then watchher fly to bits. " He rolled about in his chair in paroxysms of silentmirth. "But, " sobering, "it's too bad to think of missing the interviewbetween the Mariposa and herself. I really do not know which one I wouldput my money on. " He considered this a moment. "But that isn't the onlyinteresting thing I've gleaned in the day's work. " He glanced keenly atRobert through his white lashes, and again the triumph vibrated in histhin voice. "Hayden, do you know I've discovered the owner of your lostmine?"

Robert sat silent a moment, motionless, apparently thinking; his face atleast betrayed nothing. "The owners, " he corrected. 

"No, I don't mean owners at all, " returned Penfield coolly, "I mean justwhat I said--the owner. Ah, " the most unctuous satisfaction in his voice, "for all your non-committal manner I don't believe you know as much as Ido. "

"Perhaps that's true, " said Hayden sharply. "Whom do you mean by theowner?"

"Why, the elderly gray-haired man with whom Marcia Oldham is seen more orless, " affirmed Horace, self-gratulations in his tone. What if his fieldwas petty? He did not consider it so, and his feats were great. 

Hayden dropped the hand with which he had been shielding his eyes andstared at the gossip on the other side of the hearth. "What on earth areyou talking about?" he demanded. 

"I'm giving you facts, straight facts, dear boy, " replied Horace, hispale eyes shining through his white lashes. 

"But--but--"

"Oh, there's no 'but--but' about it. " Horace was consummately assured. "That man is the owner of your lost mine, so go ahead and dicker withhim. I know. You can take my word for it. "

"Is this a fact, Penfield?" asked Robert gravely. Horace had at leastsucceeded in impressing him. 

"True as I'm sitting here. There's absolutely no doubt about it. Yes, I've got down to the secret of that old lost and found mine of yours. " Hechuckled at his wit. "But, " his complacency increasing to the point ofexultation, "that isn't all I know, by any means. All winter long I'vebeen bothering my head about those butterflies the women are wearing, andnow, at last, I've got a line on them. "

His voice sounded curiously far away to Hayden and he did not at oncetake in the meaning of the words. His head was whirling. So, thatmiddle-aged, gray-haired man was really the owner of the mine, and it wasfor him that Marcia--No, he would not think of it. He would not letthose torturing doubts invade his mind. With every force of his nature hewould again resist them and bar them out. 

"Yes, " Penfield was gloating, "I'm on to the butterflies, at last. "

"Why should you imagine that they have any special significance?"Hayden's voice sounded faint and dull in his ears. 

"Because I have a nose for news, Hayden. I was born with it. I feel newsin the air. I scent it and I'm rarely mistaken. I said to myself lastNovember, those butterflies mean something, and I intend to get to thebottom of them. And where do you think they led me? Oh, you will beinterested in this, Hayden, " smiling. "They led me right to the root ofMarcia Oldham's secret. "

Hayden threw up his head, a flash of anger on his spiritless face. "Youcan't discuss Miss Oldham here, Penfield. "

"Oh, easy now, " returned Horace cynically. "It's nothing to herdiscredit, far from it. You remember the night you suggested that shemight live by the sale of her pictures, and I scoffed at you and saidthat all the pretty little pictures she could paint in a year wouldn'tkeep her in gowns? Well, you were nearer right than I for once. "

A light came into Hayden's face. He opened his mouth as if about to speak. 

"Now, just wait, " Horace admonished him. "The reason your suggestionstruck me as ridiculous was this: One must have a reputation to make adecent living as an artist, and who ever heard of the Oldham pictures?Where were they on exhibition? Who bought them? Nothing in it, you see. "He moved his hand with a gesture of finality. "But, " impressively, "Marcia Oldham can paint just the same, and beautifully; but that is notall she can do. It appears that as a child she very early showed a markedartistic talent. Her mother always disliked it; though her fatherencouraged it in every way; but she developed a rather peculiar bent, andin the years that she spent abroad she devoted herself to the designingand making of jewelry and _objets d'art_. Her especial fad, you know, were those exquisite translucent enamels, just like her butterflies. 

"Well, when her father died, and the crash came, Marcia, who was alreadyranked as a professional among people who knew about those things, decided to go into it as a business and support her mother and herself. 

"But that is where the old lady comes in. Obstinate as a mule, weak aswater, with a lot of silly, old-fashioned pride, she absolutely balked, had hysterics, took to her bed, did all the possible and impossiblethings that women do under such circumstances, with the result thatMarcia was at her wit's end. Finally, the mother capitulated up to acertain point. Marcia might go ahead and pursue her avocation in peaceunder one condition, that it should be a dead secret, that not a whisperof it should reach the world. 

"At first, Marcia rebelled at this decision; but one of her friends inher confidence, probably Kitty Hampton, who has considerable executiveability, persuaded her that it held certain advantages. For instance, sheas a noticeable figure, not only on account of her beauty, but alsobecause of her style and her positive genius for dress. Now, Kittyheld--and as events have proved, correctly--that Marcia, by keeping thebusiness end of it dark, could, by appearing as a devotee of social life, advertise her wares as she could no other way, especially when aided andseconded by Mrs. Habersham and Mrs. Hampton. 

"But neither of these two women is financially interested with her. Thatbeing the case, who backs the business? I am inclined to think"--Horacespoke thoughtfully and yet with sufficient assurance--"that that personis identical with the man who is the owner of the lost Mariposa. By theway, you did not ask his name. It is Carrothers. "

"Carrothers! Carrothers! Why, that was Ydo's name. Ydo Carrothers. "Hayden huddled down into his chair. He could not think. His brain, hisdazed and miserable brain had received too many impressions. They hadcrowded upon him and he could not take them in. Penfield was talking, talking straight ahead, but although Robert heard the words, theyconveyed no meaning to him. Then from the maze of them, Marcia's namestood out clearly. Horace was speaking of her again. 

"Hayden, are you asleep? I've just asked you why Marcia Oldham was sosurreptitiously carrying off that package from the little table in thedrawing-room last night. She wrapped it up in her gauze scarf and carriedit off as stealthily as a conspirator in a melodrama. "

Hayden threw off his lethargy with a supreme effort. "Did she?" in atired and rather indifferent voice. "I dare say she was afraid ofdisturbing the others. I asked her to take them home with her and lookthem over. "

"Oh!" Penfield's voice was a little disappointed but not suspicious. Herose. There was no use in wasting any more time on a man who took news, real news, so indifferently as Hayden. He thought with a smile of variousdrawing-rooms where his bits of information would create a sensation. Then why should he who could take the stage as a man of the hour, themost eagerly listened-to person in town, longer deny himself thatpleasure?

"Good-by, Hayden, " he said hastily, nor waited to hear if he wasanswered. 

CHAPTER XIX

Hayden's feeling of intense relief at Penfield's departure was succeededby an almost numb dejection. The revelations of Horace in regard toMarcia and the photographs had, to his own horror, occasioned no surprisein him, and the rest of Penfield's news had sunk into insignificancebeside this confirmation of his suspicions which lay like lead on hisheart and which he had refused to confess even to himself. He seemed tohave known it all the time, to have known it from the moment thephotographs had disappeared. He had no feeling of anger toward her, noblame for her, it went too deep for that. 

It was a gray afternoon, and as it wore on toward evening now and again aflurry of snow blew whitely from the sullen skies, and the leaping flameof the fire which had put to rout any lurking shadows was now in turndefied by them. 

"A lady to see you, sir. " Tatsu stood at Hayden's elbow. 

"A lady to see me? Here?" Hayden roused from his apathy to exclaim. 

"Yes, sir. "

But before he could make further explanation, or Hayden could give orderseither to ask the lady to enter or to beg that she excuse him, there wasa soft, hesitant footfall, the delicate feminine rustle of trailingskirts, the faint delicious fragrance of violets, and he sprang to hisfeet, his heart pounding. In some mysterious uncannily skilful manner, Tatsu vanished. 

Marcia was very white, her long, dark gown fell about her, her facegleamed pale as a lily, wistful as regret, from the shadow of her largeblack hat. 

"Mr. Hayden, Bobby. " She made a step toward him. "Why, how tired youlook! You are ill!" she broke off to cry, deep notes of tenderness andsolicitude in her voice. 

"I am a little tired, " he said, with an effort. "But you, too, look pale. Do not stand. Come near the fire. Lay aside your furs. I will have somehot tea brought. "

She allowed him to lead her to a chair, her eyes fixed still upon hisface. "Something has worried you, is bothering you still. Isn't it so?"

He dismissed the question. "You must believe me, " he said, "when I assureyou that I am quite well, and that everything is all right. "

She was still standing, and now she turned to him and laid her hand uponhis sleeve. There was an intensity, almost a wildness in her expression. "Ah, " she cried, "you have missed the photographs. I was afraid of that, but I couldn't get here sooner. I telephoned twice, but I could not reachyou. You know that I could not have dreamed of coming here, here to yourapartment except for the most urgent of reasons. Bobby"--she burst intotears and clung to his arm--"it was I--I who stole your papers andphotographs. "

"My dear, " bending above her, "do not say such things. " His voicetrembled. "If you borrowed my photographs you did it for some goodreason, for cause which seemed right and proper to you. That is enoughfor me. "

"Oh, Robert, Robert!" She was weeping now, her whole figure shaken withsobs. "Your goodness, your sweetness overwhelms me. It is more than I canbear. But, Bobby, you mustn't believe the worst things of me. I didn'ttake them from the motives you may attribute to me. "

"Dear Marcia, " he said soothingly, "do not talk of motives. Whatever yourmotives were, they were right. But you are going to tell me no more now. You are going to sit down here and have a cup of tea, and rest quietly afew moments before you attempt to tell me anything more. Here, you mustlay aside those heavy wraps. "

He took her furs, he begged her to remove her hat, then occupied himselffor a moment in fussing over the fire and giving orders for hot tea, andwas rewarded presently by seeing that the color had returned to her lipsand cheeks, and that the frightened, strained expression had faded fromher eyes. 

"There, " he said, after Tatsu had brought in the tea things, and he hadpoured some for her. "Two lumps of sugar, one slice of lemon. You see, Iremember your tastes. "

She smiled gratefully at him. "Please, may I tell you all about it now?"she asked. 

His face fell again into the lines of dejection. In spite of thecheerfulness he had forced himself to assume, and in spite of thecompassion he felt for her weakness, he would have postponed for everthis confession which must condemn her. 

"Why, " he asked, "why not bury the incident in a wise oblivion, and nevermention it again? Indeed, indeed, it is better so. One of the bestmottoes in the world is, 'Never explain. '"

His lips smiled, but his eyes pleaded, and his heart passionatelyprotested:

 Must we lose our Eden, Eve and I?

[Illustration]

Her languor and weariness disappeared in a moment; she drew herself upnow, the pose of her head haughty, her eyes chill. "Never explain?" sherepeated. "It is, as you say, an excellent motto--for those who are bestassisted by a wise silence. But I assure you I am not trying to gain yourpity, or tolerance or forgiveness. I took your photographs and mapsyesterday evening and acted probably on incorrect reasoning and mistakenimpulse, but I should do exactly the same thing again under the samecircumstances; and now, I insist upon your listening to thosecircumstances. "

She laid aside her cup and with the scarlet still glowing on her cheekbegan:

"Yesterday morning I received word from Mr. Carrothers that a man who hadall the charts and photographs of The Veiled Mariposa had beendiscovered, and that that man was you. You may imagine my sensations. Atfirst, I could not grasp it, it seemed too inconceivable and incredibleto be true, and then, as the facts of the case were given me and I wasable to realize it, to take it in, why--I was overcome with joy. Ah, B---- Mr. Hayden, no one was ever so happy as I yesterday morning. Yourwords of a week ago, the afternoon that we had walked in the Park, cameback to me. Your mysterious allusions to the good fortune which wasalmost within your grasp--and this was it! And to think that I--I shouldbe one of the owners of the property! Why, it was like a fairy-story. "

"And are you really one of the owners?" he interrupted her to cry. 

"Indeed, yes. But let me go on. I was also told that your informationwould be in our hands within twenty-four hours, and then, I learned thatYdo was conducting the negotiations. That was the rift within the lute. Iimmediately became frightened. I did not know what it meant. What I didknow was that Ydo stops at nothing to gain her ends. And of course, she, being interested, too--"

"How is she interested?" he interrupted again. "I have not discoveredthat. "

"I will explain later. I want to go on with this part of my story now. But, as I say, knowing Ydo, her daring, her indifference to anything buther own game, her powers of resource--"

"Oh, come, you are unjust to her, " he exclaimed, forgetful of his ownbase suspicions. 

"Oh, I know it, but believe me, I am not"--again her head was haughtilylifted--"I am not trying to gain your sympathy by criticizing her; I ammerely trying to make you understand the case as it appeared to me. As Isay, I was frightened. It was all my own superstition. Indeed, I knowthat it was; but I got in a panic, and could not reason clearly. No, " ashe strove to take her hand, "please wait. And then, last night whenHorace Penfield asked you to show the photographs I saw a confirmation ofmy fears, and when Ydo entered I was still more frightened. I suspectedan arrangement, a plot between them. There were the photographs and mapson that little table where you had carelessly thrown them; any one couldtake them; and then when Ydo was going through her nonsense over thatglass ball and had every one's attention fixed on her Horace crept aroundand stood so near the table that I was sure he was going to seize them, so I took them myself. I twisted the gauze scarf which was about my neckaround them and carried them out that way. No one noticed. And here theyare. " She lifted the package from her muff, still wrapped in the scarf, and held it out to him. "No one has even glanced at them; not evenmyself. "

"And you did this to save me! Oh, Marcia, Marcia!" He was more moved thanhe could express. 

"Wait!" She lifted her hand imperatively. "I haven't finished. There arelots of things to tell you yet. "

"Postpone them!" he cried ardently. "Forget them until to-morrow! Ah, dearest, you are tired. You have borne too much strain already. "

"No, no!" she cried. "It grows late, and I must, must tell you thesethings before I leave you. "

"Leave me!" he cried. "Try it. When you go I go with you. "

They both laughed. "But listen, Bobby, " she pleaded; and at that "Bobby"his heart glowed, he was surely forgiven. "Don't you want to know how Ihappened to be the largest owner of the vast Mariposa estate?"

"Oh, indeed I do!" he said. "Are you the largest owner?"

"Yes, " she nodded. "You see, at the height of his prosperity, my fatherbought it from a Mr. Willoughby, whose wife inherited it. No one knew it, but even at that time my father's mind was affected, and before long hisdisease, a softening of the brain, had fully manifested itself. Hisgreatest interest in life had always been business, and after this changecame upon him he got all kinds of strange ideas in his head, among them aperfect mania for destroying papers. It is principally for that reason, "with a slight shrug of her shoulders, "that we were left almostpenniless. But he had a head clerk, a Mr. Carrothers, Ydo's father, bythe way, who saw how things were going, and who, by various ruses, succeeded in saving some of the papers, among them those relating to theMariposa estate. These were intact. 

"After my father's death, as you have probably heard, there waspractically nothing left, nothing for my mother and myself to live on. SoI decided to go into business. I am, " with a little smile, "both adesigner and manufacturer of quaint jewelry, ornaments and things; butthere wasn't any money. But Mr. Carrothers, who had more or less, wascrazy about the Mariposa property. He had looked up the history of theWilloughbys and found that everything that Mr. Willoughby claimed wastrue, and he wanted an interest in the estate, so he offered to financemy little venture if I would give him a third interest in the property. 

"I was glad enough to do so, and he and I went into partnership. It hasbeen a success. We have made money, but it left little time for anythingelse. Nevertheless, Mr. Carrothers has never lost his enthusiasm inregard to The Veiled Mariposa, and that has kept up my flagging interest. We have not been idle about it either; but have kept prospectors downthere almost all the time. Ydo went over the ground two or three yearsago. But this year, we had decided to make a special effort. We were tosend down some great expert and a seasoned old prospector or two whocould positively smell ore on the rocks. 

"I sent out my little messages in the shape of the jeweled butterflies, and Ydo, who had not been in this country for several years, decided totell fortunes under the name of The Veiled Mariposa, and to carry out theidea in her disguise. It was a clever idea because she could advertise, and any one who had anything to communicate about the mine wouldnaturally connect her with it and seek her out. And sure enough, this hasproved our lucky year, for you, you discovered it--The Veiled Mariposa. "She smiled happily at him. 

"To lay it at your feet. " He caught her hands and drew her up from herchair. "Ah, Queen of Eldorado, will you take it with my poor heart?"

They were both laughing; but it was laughter that trembled on the vergeof tears. "Sweetheart, " she murmured, her arms about his neck, her facehidden on his shoulder, "my mine, my butterflies and my heart are yoursfor ever. "

"Ah!" He held her so closely that the violets, crushed upon her breast, protested in wafts of fragrance. 

"There are more things I want to tell you, " she murmured. 

"You will do nothing of the kind, O Scheherazade! Not, at least, untilyou have had something to eat. Ah, we will go to the Gildersleeve, wherewe first met, or at least first talked. Come, your hat and wraps, nodelay. "

He assisted her into her long cloak, and laid her furs about hershoulders. 

"How can I pin on my hat, " she asked desperately, "when you--"

"Yes? When I?" he said encouragingly. "Why are you blushing?"

"Nobody can properly pin on a hat when some one is kissing her, " sheprotested. 

"I am from Missouri, " he replied. "You must show me. In other words, Idoubt the assertion. Now, to prove it, you try to pin on your hat and Iwill endeavor to kiss you at the same time. "

"You will do nothing of the kind, " she insisted. "You will go and standon the other side of the room. Ah--"

There was no room for further argument, the door was thrown open and Ydo, brilliant, laughing, gorgeous as a tropical flower, entered. Behind herloomed Wilfred Ames with all the radiance it was possible for hisstolidity to express. 

"Here!" cried Ydo, the music of her laughter filling the room as her eyesfell on Marcia. "Ah, I knew it! What did I tell you?" turning to Hayden. 

"What do you mean?" cried Marcia, startled, flushing. 

"I mean this, " laughed Ydo. "That he, " pointing to Hayden, "came to meabout noon, frantic over the disappearance of his claims on Eldorado. After he had explained the circumstances to me I knew in a minute thatthou wert the woman. I didn't have to gaze into my crystal or run thecards to see that. But why, why? I knew that you didn't take themfor--well, reasons that others might have taken them for; but why takethem at all?"

There was no gainsaying Ydo. "Because I thought some one else would takethem if I didn't, " faltered Marcia. 

"Meaning me!" Ydo's laughter seemed merciless to Marcia's shrinking ears. "I don't mind the implication. But Wilfred, Bobby, to fancy I would doanything so clumsy! Who says that women are not cruel to women?"

"Ydo, forgive me, " pleaded Marcia, "I am humiliated, ashamed. " Her voicetrembled. 

Ydo's green eyes twinkled upon her. "Oh, la! la!" with a friendly, careless little push. "Sweet, dainty lady of the butterflies, I havenothing to forgive. I comprehend you, and he who understands all forgivesall. It is simply that you do not understand me. Shall the violetunderstand the orchid? It is not a thing to think of again, so forget itfor ever. 

"And speaking of orchids, Mr. Hayden, may I have a few to wear to-nightfrom that vase yonder? They will just suit my gown. "

She moved with him across the room, leaving Marcia and Ames standingtogether; but she did not stretch out her hand to take the orchids heoffered, but stood looking at him with her dazzling smile, sweetened, softened with some touch of feeling so deep and yet so evanescent that hecould not fathom it. 

"Little brother of the wilds, now that you have won Cinderella andEldorado, as I predicted, I wish you a divine unrest. It is the best ICan hope for you. Eldorado and domesticity mean the fishy eye, the heavyjowl, and the expanded waistcoat; and remember that although the red godsmay be silent so long that you will forget them, yet there will come aday when they will call and you will hear nothing else. Then, as youwould keep your happiness, get up and follow--follow 'to the camp ofproved desire and known delight. '"

"Advice from one about to settle down--don't settle. " He strove to speaklightly, but failed. 

"I settle! Don't harbor any such vagaries. We may meet again, oh, I don'tmean in this sort of a way, I mean where the open road winds on like agreat river, and the pines go marching up and down hill, and the bluesmoke of the tent-fires curls up to the morning skies. We may meet again, Bobby, on the outward trail that leads from Eldorado to Arcady. "

She swept across the room, pausing to kiss Marcia lightly on the cheek asshe passed her. "Come, Wilfred, " she cried. "We are _de trop_. Let us seehow quickly we can vanish. "

The door closed behind them, but the room still held the faint echo ofher laughter, the lingering breath of evasive and enchanting perfume. 

Marcia had thrown her furs about her shoulders and now she picked up hermuff. It fell to the floor, unheeded, as Hayden caught her hands in his. 

"What was Ydo saying to you?" she asked. 

"She was giving me some geographical information about the relativesituations of Eldorado and Arcady, and condemning the former as a healthresort. "

"Bobby! You're fooling! I can tell by your eyes. "

"But her knowledge is incorrect, " he announced triumphantly. "Forinstance, she is not even aware that the towers and treasures of Eldoradolie in the very heart of Arcady, and that we will dwell there for everand a day, my adored lady of the Silver Butterfly. "

THE END