Juliet had scarcely taken her seat in Mr. Dinsmore's box when a sweeping glance around the theatre showed her Count De Lisle occupying another at no great distance.

She telegraphed him behind her fan, and during the interval between the first and second acts he joined them.

When Juliet re-entered the carriage which was to convey her home, she carried within her glove, a tiny note written on fine, tinted, highly scented French paper, which he had adroitly slipped into her hand, unobserved by any of her companions.

Under cover of the darkness she transferred it to her bosom, and the first moment that she found herself alone in her dressing-room, it was hastily drawn forth and read at a glance.

Her cheeks flushed, her eyes shone, as with a triumphant smile she refolded and laid it safely by.

On leaving the room to go down to her late breakfast the next morning, she carried it with her; for not for any consideration would she risk having it seen by other eyes than her own.

She was very late and a good deal flurried in consequence; her thoughts were busy, too, with the important step she had determined to take that night. In her absence of mind she must have been guilty of some carelessness, for on returning to her room, after dawdling for an hour over her meal in company with her aunt and sister, she was horrified to find that the note was missing.

In vain she searched her pockets, shook out the folds of her dress, hunted everywhere, even retracing her steps all the way to the breakfast parlor and looking under and around the table. It was hopelessly lost and she dare not make any ado or inquiry about it.

She was exceedingly fretted and troubled but must conceal her anxiety, only hoping that it had fallen into some place where it would be undiscovered until she and the count had made good their escape from Roselands, and placed themselves beyond successful pursuit.

Fortunately, as she esteemed it, no one had been witness to her perturbation, or her quest, Reba and their aunt having, upon leaving the table, retired together to the boudoir of the latter.

Dire would have been Juliet's anger and alarm could she have known what had actually become of her missing treasure.

Miss Worth, in passing between the schoolroom and her own apartment, caught sight of a bit of paper lying on the floor at the head of the stairway, and stooping, picked it up.

There was neither seal nor superscription upon the outside; therefore there seemed nothing wrong or dishonorable in opening it, for indeed how otherwise was she to learn to whom it belonged in order to restore it?

One glance told who was the writer (for she was no stranger to his peculiar chirography), to whom it was addressed, and what it signified.

That was all, but it needed not another word to let her, whose eyes now scanned it in indignant sorrow fully into their plans.

She sent a quick glance around to satisfy herself that she was unseen, then crushing the missive in her hand, went on her way deeply thankful that Juliet had lost and that she had found it.

Yet she was sorely perplexed and anxious; so disturbed that it was no easy matter to give the necessary attention to her pupils. What should she do? Appeal again to Juliet? It seemed utterly useless. But this thing must be prevented; yes, even though it cost her the loss of her situation.

But, Harry! she shuddered and turned sick and faint at the thought that he might be taken, identified, and put on trial for the crime committed years ago. He must be saved at all risks. She would go out, meet and warn him ere he had quite reached Roselands.

He would be furious; perhaps in his rage do her some bodily harm; but—he must be saved.

She would give this note to Mr. Dinsmore, she decided, telling him where she had found it, that she had been well acquainted with the writer in former years, and recognized the hand.

That would be sufficient to lead him to prevent Juliet's leaving the house, and if she could succeed in warning Harry away, going and returning unobserved, all would be well.

But her plans miscarried. Mr. Dinsmore, as she learned on seeking an interview, had left home after an early breakfast, taken hastily in his private room, and would not probably return until the next day.

Here was an unexpected difficulty; what now was she to do?

She was slowly mounting the stairs in half despairing mood, when a pleasant, girlish voice addressed her from the hall below.

"Miss Worth, Pomp has just got back from the city with the mail, and here is a letter for you."

Mildred bounded up the stairs with the last words, put the letter into the eagerly outstretched hand of the governess, and hurried on to her own room to revel in the delights of a long epistle from her mother and sisters.

She was not half through it when there came a rap upon her door, and with brows knitting with vexation at the unwelcome interruption, she rose to open it.

She started back with an exclamation of surprise and terror as Miss Worth tottered in with a face white even to the lips, and sank speechless into the nearest chair.

"What is it? what is it?" cried Mildred hastening to bring a glass of water, and hold it to her lips.

The governess swallowed a mouthful, seemingly with some difficulty, then putting it aside with her hand, "Don't be alarmed," she whispered, "I shall be over it in a moment. But it was such a shock; oh, how could he—how could he be so wicked!"

She ended with a burst of weeping.

Mildred's sympathies were fully aroused; laying her precious letter carefully away for future perusal, she gave herself to the task of soothing and comforting the poor distracted woman.

Miss Worth told her story brokenly, still concealing the nature of the tie that connected her with the pseudo count.

Her letter, from her sister, Mrs. Marks, told of the return to America of their scape-grace brother, that he had paid them a flying visit weeks ago, and gone again, they knew not whither, and that shortly after his departure there had come to them a young, pretty Italian peasant woman, who claimed to be his wife; showing in proof thereof, some trinkets which they recognized as having belonged to him, a marriage certificate, and a baby boy, who was his image.

Miss Worth simply stated to Mildred the facts in regard to the note she had picked up and that her letter had brought certain intelligence that Juliet's admirer had already a living wife.

"Oh, dreadful!" cried Mildred, "now surely you will warn her once more?"

"Yes, I will; though doubtless she will refuse to believe it of him."

"But she will not, she cannot be so infatuated as to go on and elope with him without full proof that the story of his marriage is false."

"I do not know that: she is so supremely silly. But Miss Mildred, I must see her alone, and how am I to manage it? I have only to-day."

Mildred looked thoughtful. "I don't see how yet, but I must contrive to make an opportunity for you," she said; and after a little more talk about ways and means, mingled with some words of sympathy and hope from the younger to the older girl, they parted; Mildred going down to luncheon, Miss Worth to her own room.

Half an hour later Mildred joined her there with a face that told of good news before she opened her lips.

"Aunt Dinsmore thinks uncle may be home to-night," she said, "and I noticed Juliet did not seem pleased to hear it. She asked how soon, and aunt said probably not before half past one or two o'clock; as the train gets into the city about midnight and he must drive over from there.

"Then aunt proposed that we four ladies should take a drive this afternoon, and Reba and I accepted her invitation at once, but Juliet declined, saying she was tired and would find more enjoyment in a novel and the sofa."

"She stays at home to make her preparations," said Miss Worth.

"Just what I think; and this will be your opportunity," returned Mildred. "Is it not fortunate? Now I must go and leave you to improve it. The carriage will be at the door in a few moments."

Miss Worth sat down by her window to watch for it, and as soon as it had driven quite out of sight went quietly to Juliet's door and knocked.

There was no answer though she could hear some one moving softly about the room.

She waited a moment, then rapped again a little louder than before.

Still no notice was taken, the quiet footfalls and slight rustle of silken garments continuing as before.

But she persisted, repeating her knocks at short intervals and with increasing force till at length the key was turned hastily in the lock and the door thrown open, showing Juliet's fair face crimson with passion.

"Will you cease that racket?" she began, then starting back at sight of the pale determined face, "You!" she cried, "is it you? How dare you?" and she would have slammed the door in the face of her unwelcome visitor, but Miss Worth was too quick for her, and holding it forcibly open, slipped in, pushed it to, turned the key, and facing the girl who stood spell-bound with astonishment and fury, said.

"I will not apologize for my seemingly rude behavior, since you have compelled me to it, and it is only for your own sake that I intrude upon you."

"Leave this room instantly!" was the passionate rejoinder, "instantly, do you hear?" stamping her foot with rage.

"Not till I have done my errand and cleared my skirts of your ruin, if you are still so infatuated as to rush upon it," returned the governess quietly, folding her arms and placing her back against the door.

"I have already told you the man who seeks your hand is a deceiver, a spurious nobleman, a mere fortune hunter—"

"Stop!" cried Juliet, interrupting her with fury in her tones and again stamping her foot, "stop! and leave this room or I will summon the servants to put you out."

"No, you will not do that," Miss Worth returned with a contemptuous smile, "you will not want them to hear what I have to tell of your adorer, or rather the adorer of your wealth—and I will not go till I have finished what I came to say."

"You think to rob me of him," sneered Juliet, "but you are mistaken. You are too old and ugly. If he ever fancied you it is all past; he can never do so again. But I can't believe you were ever really pretty, for you are as ugly as sin now."

"Thank you," the governess answered with irony. "I rejoice to learn that you think sin ugly, for it is a sin for you to allow this man to play the lover to you, and it would be a dreadful sin for you to marry him; not only because of the entire disapproval of your parents but," she added with strong emphasis, "because he already has a wife."

For a moment Juliet was struck dumb with astonishment, but recovering herself, "I don't believe it!" she cried, her cheek crimsoning, her eyes flashing. "I don't believe a word of it; and if I did I'd marry him all the same," she added, grinding her teeth. "I would, for I love him, I love him! and you needn't tell me he's a villain!"

"Marry him! the ceremony would be a mere farce, and you a—not a wife; for you could not be that while she lives who is his lawful, wedded wife."

Miss Worth spoke with slow distinctness, her eyes fixed severely upon Juliet's face.

The latter started back as if stung, then resuming her haughty, defiant air, "How dare you!" she repeated, "What is he to you? and what proof can you bring of all that you assert against him?"

"What he is to me does not concern you," said Miss Worth, "My knowledge of his marriage was gained to-day by a letter from his sister; but if I should show it to you, you would of course ask how you were to know that he was the man referred to, or that she was a reliable witness. No, I can prove nothing; but if you are wise you will require proof that he is—a man who has a right to offer you his hand; who can make you his lawful wife; and whom to marry will not be ruin."

"Then I am not wise. Now go!"

"I obey you since my errand is now done," returned the governess with a stately bow, as she unlocked the door and threw it wide open.

Stepping into the hall she faced her antagonist again for an instant. "If you will persist in this madness, on your own head be your ruin; my skirts are clear," she said, and swept proudly away.

It cost Mildred quite an effort to give due attention to Reba's chatter and the small talk of her aunt, during the hour or more of their drive, her thoughts being very full of the interview then in progress between Miss Worth and Juliet.

On reaching home she repaired directly to the room of the former to hear an account of it.

This the governess gave in detail, concluding with, "You see, Miss Keith, it is just as I expected; she will not hear reason, she will take no warning, she is fully bent upon carrying out this mad freak, and if we save her, it will be in spite of herself."

"Yes; and we have but little time to consider how we shall do it," said Mildred. "What is your plan?"

"To go myself, a little before his appointed hour, to meet and warn him away, while you remain in the house and on the watch to prevent her from leaving it to join him. Are you willing to undertake that, Miss Mildred?"

"Yes; to the best of my ability. I will rouse the whole house if necessary to prevent her from getting away with him."

"Thank you," Miss Worth said earnestly. "Miss Keith, I am very sorry to have to call upon you for this assistance, for it will involve the loss of your night's rest. But Mr. Dinsmore being unfortunately away—"

"Don't speak of it," interrupted Mildred impulsively; "it is a very small sacrifice on my part, for I am well and pretty strong again; but you look wretchedly ill."

"Never mind me, I shall be better when this is over," Miss Worth answered with a faint smile.

"I will leave you to lie down and rest," Mildred said, rising to go; "and can't you sleep through the early part of the night, if I am on guard and ready to wake you at midnight?"

The governess shook her head. "I cannot sleep till this is over. But it will tend to lull Juliet's suspicions if you will retire at your usual early hour, and let me call you when the appointed hour draws near."

"It is a wise thought, and we will do so," Mildred said. "And now I must go and dress for dinner. Try not to be so very anxious. I do believe it will all turn out well," she added hopefully, as she left the room.