Jewel was very busy getting ready for her marriage now, which had been set for the early spring. In her anxiety to be sure of her husband she would have liked to forego the delights of a trousseau, and be married at once, but she had no excuse for hurrying the time, and Laurie Meredith never hinted at the intervening months as being at all too long.

So Jewel filled up her life as much as possible with ordering an expensive trousseau and mixing in the gay world, not giving herself time to think, for "that way madness lay."

One evening her lover had called to accompany her to an entertainment given in honor of Lord and Lady Ivon, who were to leave on the morrow. Jewel was exquisitely dressed for the occasion in a dress of dark-red satin, draped in rich black lace, one of her favorite and most becoming costumes. Her ornaments were deep red rubies set in gold.

A happy light was burning in the large dark eyes, for her rival was going away to-morrow, never to cross her path in life again, she hoped.

Mrs. Wellings, in rich black velvet and point lace, was in attendance as chaperon.

Jewel slipped her gloved hand through the arm of her betrothed.

"Let us go to the conservatory, dear Laurie," she whispered, fondly. "I have a fancy that you shall choose the flowers I wear to-night."

He rose with her and selected deep-red jacqueminot roses. She made him cut them off with long stems and an abundance of buds, and was about to fasten them in her corsage, when, to his utter amazement, she uttered a wild, startled shriek, dropped the flowers and fell against his breast, clasping her white arms around his neck.

"Jewel, what is it?" he exclaimed, putting his arm around her gently, and looking down at her convulsed face.

He saw that her eyes were fixed upon a door in the rear end of the conservatory, and his glance hastily followed her strained and startled one.

As he did so, a blast of keen, cold, wintery air swept through the warm, odorous conservatory. The rear door was open, and upon its threshold, very clearly outlined against the blackness of the outer night, there was standing a slight, girlish figure all in white.

A swift shudder crept along the veins of Laurie Meredith.

The figure he was gazing at was all in misty, yet luminous white, that fell from neck to feet in a loose, graceful fashion. The face was not quite clear in the dim light, but it seemed to be of mortal paleness, while all around it fell long waves of golden hair.

Laurie Meredith gazed in wonder and awe at that strange, unearthly looking figure, while Jewel shuddered and moaned, faintly:

"You see it, do you not, Laurie—the awful spirit form? Oh, this old house is haunted! I have seen the ghosts more than once, but I would not speak lest no one would believe me. But, oh, you can not guess what I have suffered, and, dear, I shall be so glad when I am married and gone from this dismal, haunted abode!"

Jewel had seen the ghost so often that her nerves were steeled against it, and she turned it to account by this clever hint to Laurie to hasten their marriage.

Both were looking intently at the luminous figure in the open door. It moved slightly and threw up one arm in a theatrical gesture, and Laurie Meredith uttered an exclamation:

"A ghost, Jewel! But I do not believe in ghosts!"

"Nor did I, till I came to this horrible house!" she whispered. "Oh, Laurie, what are you going to do?" for he had drawn her arms from his neck and was pushing her hurriedly into a chair.

"I shall speak to the ghost," he whispered, and darted down the flowery vista.

There was a stifled shriek, a flutter of garments. The ghost fled into the outer darkness, and Laurie Meredith after it.

Jewel sat quaking in her chair, thinking in terror:

"Ah, what if it should lead him into the old cellar, and he should discover my awful secret?"

At that moment a woman's shrill, frightened cry became audible, a moment later the voice of a man:

"Who are you, playing ghost like this, and frightening helpless women out of their senses? You need not struggle, for I am going to unmask you."