Millar had played with devilish ingenuity on the tender susceptibilities of Elsa. He encouraged her in her love for Karl and her determination to win him, evidently with the deliberate purpose that she should repel the boy whose will he had determined to subordinate to his own. He watched as a cat watches its prey the meeting between Karl and Elsa after he withdrew quietly into the sheltering recess behind the palms.

Karl had been searching for her and stopped, barring her way into the ballroom.

"So here you are at last, Miss Elsa," he exclaimed.

"Yes," Elsa replied, dropping her eyes demurely.

"Why are you not in the ballroom?"

"I wanted to be alone. If any one really wanted me he could find me."Her dejection surprised Karl.

"You seem sad. Are you worried?"

"No."

"Then what has happened?" Karl asked.

He walked toward her, and as he did so Millar emerged from his place of concealment. Karl looked at him.

"Ah, now I understand," he said.

"Surely you do not mean to suspect that I am the cause of Miss Elsa's unhappiness," he said blandly.

Karl ignored him and turned to Elsa, looking at her in frank admiration.

"You are very pretty to-night," he said, going close to her. "It is because you are yourself—a sweet, pure, natural girl. I like you better this way, Elsa. I could take you in my arms and hug you."

"Oh, Karl!" Elsa exclaimed, blushing and hiding her face.

Millar's cynical smile overspread his face, and he turned away, well satisfied with the progress he was making.

"Excuse me," he murmured. "I must say good-evening to our hostess," and he stole quietly out.The two young people did not notice him. They sat down very close to each other, Karl leaning forward and looking into the big blue eyes of the girl. Elsa gave a glance at the disappearing figure of Millar.

"I am awfully glad to be alone with you, Elsa," Karl said. "You are the one natural thing in this fetid, artificial atmosphere. Don't you feel warm?"

"Yes, as if some hot breeze were blowing through this room. It stifles me."

"You never spoke like that before," Karl said.

His back was toward the ballroom door and he did not see Millar usher Olga into the room. The man had brought Olga that she might witness the fulfilment of her plan, and that he might triumph in her jealousy and further thwart them. Elsa saw them come in and seat themselves across the room.

"There is Olga," she said, "and she, too, is jealous. Don't you want to speak to her?"

"I have seen her," Karl replied without turning around. "I would rather talk with you. It's far more interesting."

"They are talking about us," Elsa said warningly, as she saw Olga and Millar look toward them.

"Oh, what of it?" Karl exclaimed impatiently. "Let us be glad we are together. I am just beginning to know you, Elsa."

"Why do you look around, then?" Elsa said.

"Am I looking around?" Karl asked. "I wasn't aware of it."

But even as he spoke he could not help furtively glancing around to see what Millar and Olga were doing. He remembered the man's declaration in the studio that afternoon and he distrusted and feared him. He was beginning to hate him.

By a sheer effort of will he forced himself to turn to Elsa. He resolved that he would talk to her; that he would make love to her; that he would marry her and banish from his heart those hateful emotions which Millar had aroused. He leaned forward and spoke of love to the girl in low tones, while Elsa, with color coming and going in her face, listened and watched the woman she knew for her rival.

"Our first love usually is our last love—our last love always is the first," Karl said.

"I don't know," Elsa cried demurely. "I have never been in love, although I was disappointed twice," she added gayly.

Karl was beginning to find his task difficult. His attention wandered to Olga.

"Disappointments; well, yes, who has not been disappointed?"

Elsa observed his growing inattention, his efforts to concentrate his thoughts on their talk, his futile love-making, and she turned from him coldly. Meanwhile Millar and Olga were having a conversation in which Olga was being torn on the rack of her jealous emotions.

Millar had brought her into the anteroom to show her Karl making love to Elsa. Every circumstance favored his design. Olga at first was disposed to withdraw when she saw them.

"Don't you think we should leave the young people together?" she said.

"You are too considerate," Millar replied cynically.

"They seem to be growing fond of each other," Olga said jealously.

"THEY SEEM TO BE GROWING FOND OF EACH OTHER," OLGA SAID JEALOUSLY.—Page 108.

By Permission of Henry W. Savage.

Link to larger image"Yes; do you dislike it?"

"No."

"Shall we leave now?"

"No; I rather enjoy watching my seed bear fruit."

Olga tried to speak lightly and smile. Millar, watching her closely, saw her lips twitch, and it was with difficulty that she controlled herself.

"They are an interesting couple," he said.

"Can't we discuss something besides these two?" Olga asked impatiently.

"Yes, certainly," Millar acquiesced. "I came here to-night to decide a wager," he went on.

"What was it?" Olga asked absently, looking with jealous eyes at Elsa and Karl.

"I made a wager that you would fall in love with me to-night."

Olga was startled by the declaration, but she treated it lightly as one of Millar's strange sayings.

"With whom did you make such a wager?" she asked.

"With Karl," Millar answered quickly."Karl—and what did he say?" Olga cried, almost rising from her seat.

"I must not tell you now; it might hurt you."

"Oh, no, it won't; please tell me now," Olga pleaded, leaning over the table toward him.

Millar, too, leaned forward, his face almost touching her white shoulder, his hand touching hers as it rested on the table. It was thus Karl saw them with one of those furtive glances, and the glist froze the pretty speech he was trying to make to Elsa. The girl, seeing his look, jumped to her feet, exclaiming angrily, and so that all three heard her:

"Take me to the ballroom immediately. I have promised the next dance."

Karl also, his face white with passion, had jumped to his feet. Elsa, almost in tears, stamped her foot at him.

"Why do you stand there? Take me away. Aren't you coming?"

She turned and started to the door, Karl following. They passed Millar and Olga, still seated at the table."I thought you were in the ballroom," Olga said sweetly to the girl.

"Oh, did you?"

"I hope you are enjoying the dancing."

"I hate dancing, but I shall dance every dance to-night," Elsa cried passionately.

She looked angrily at Olga, who arose and moved toward her. Karl stepped between them, giving his arm to Elsa. The two walked together, leaving Olga looking helplessly into the smiling face of Millar.

Olga looked angrily at the stormy little Elsa as she floundered from the room into the ballroom, followed by the enraged Karl. Millar smiled more cynically than ever as he saw the play of emotion on Olga's face. His ruse had worked admirably. He had at least beaten down Olga's will, but he had yet to make certain of Karl.

"How dared she speak like that?" Olga demanded, turning to her cynic Millar. "Karl must love her."

"Let us not reach conclusions so hastily," Millar said. "First let me tell you how Karl answered me this afternoon.""When you made the wager?" Olga asked quickly.

"Yes; when I promised to make you fall in love with me."

"What did he say?"

"He tried to kill me," Millar answered slowly.

The color rushed to Olga's cheeks. Her eyes sparkled as she turned them toward her tempter. It was delight she felt; mad, unreasoning joy that Karl's love for her had prompted him to kill another who threatened to win her from him. Still smiling, Millar went on, taking the shining revolver from his pocket and showing it to her:

"With his own hands, dear lady, Karl tried to kill me with this little pistol. I took it away from him."

"He tried to shoot you?" Olga exclaimed.

"Yes; and he would have done so. This is nicely loaded for six."

Almost to herself Olga whispered her next words:

"This afternoon he wanted to kill you when you only spoke of making love to me, and now—he saw you whisper in my ear, hold my hand, touch my shoulders. Why, he must have fallen in love with——"

"Don't you think it silly to shoot a friend on account of a woman?" Millar interrupted, before she could pronounce Elsa's name.

"Oh, he's fond of me—perhaps you said something about me," Olga stumbled on hurriedly. "Karl holds me in high regard, but, there is no doubt of it, these young people are in love."

"I fear you regret the success of your matrimonial scheme for Karl and Elsa," Millar said.

"Do you think it will be successful?" she asked eagerly.

"I don't know, but we may find out easily enough."

"How?"

Millar took a turn up and down the room, his up-slanting eyebrows drawn together in deep thought.

"This afternoon he tried to shoot me when I told him I would make you fall in love with me," he said, stopping in front of Olga. "That means love. Don't speak to me of respect or regard, my dear lady. They fire off cannons in salute out of respect, but when they draw pistols, that means love. Now, you think Karl loves this little girl. Suppose we find out who is right. We will make Karl tell us himself."

Olga turned away with a gesture of dissent, but Millar went on insinuatingly:

"Of course, I understand it interests you only because you planned this marriage, and after all it is only right that you should feel a certain amount of pride in the success of your plans. Is it not so?"

"Yes, that is true."

"Very well, then; Karl shall tell us which was real—his attempt to murder me or this little affair with Elsa."

"But how—you don't mean to ask Karl?" Olga asked in bewilderment. "You are not going to listen at key-holes?"

"Oh, madam, no."

"Then how can we make him tell us?"

"It is simple; I have a plan. But you must follow my instructions to the letter. Don't ask for any reasons; simply do as I say."

Olga looked at him reflectively. She knew instinctively that he had some new bit of devilish ingenuity, some sinister twist of that marvelous brain, and she was afraid. But she wanted more than anything else to be assured that Karl did not love Elsa; that her scheme for their marriage had failed, and she replied:

"Very well, it is agreed."

"I saw you once at the opera with a very beautiful cloak that covered you completely from your neck to your shoe tips. Have you such a cloak now?"

"Yes."

"Good. Put this cloak on. Let only your bare neck show above it and the tips of your shoes beneath. Button it from top to bottom, as if you felt cold. Then we shall need but the presence of yourself and Karl, here in this room, to solve the problem."

"LET ONLY YOUR BARE NECK SHOW ABOVE YOUR CLOAK, AND THE TIPS OF YOUR SHOES BENEATH IT."—Page 115.

By Permission of Henry W. Savage.

Link to larger image

Olga looked at Millar a moment in silence. There flashed instantly through her mind the full meaning of his daring suggestion, and at first she was on the point of indignant refusal. Then she as quickly resolved to carry out the scheme; to beat the man at his own cunning game; to find out for herself what Karl really felt.

"Unconditionally obey me and we shall know everything," Millar assured her, observing her hesitation.

"This is very mysterious," Olga said slowly. "What strange influence do you possess that compels me to obey your will? Your eyes seem to have all the wisdom of the world behind them."

"You do my eyes poor, scant justice," Millar replied. "Now go, dear madam. If any one expresses astonishment that you wear a cloak indoors, simply say that you felt cold."

"It really is cold," Olga said with a little shiver as they turned away.

"Out this way," Millar said quickly, pointing to the palms and a door beyond them. "Karl is coming."

Olga gathered her skirts up and hurried from the room just as Karl entered. The young artist caught a glimpse of her dress as she disappeared behind the palms. He looked at Millar with jealous rage making his eyes glow."Who was that?" he demanded.

"Who?" Millar asked, blandly.

"Did Olga run away from me?"

"No one ran from you that I know of, Karl. That is a pretty girl, my young friend, that little Elsa."

"Yes, she is pretty," Karl replied absently, sitting down at a table.

He was still tortured by the sight of Millar leaning over Olga, touching her hands, whispering in her ear. He was tormented by the insinuating words the man had uttered in the afternoon when he swore that Olga should love him; should be his. He would have liked to take Millar's throat in his two hands and throttle him.

Keenly aware of the inferno he had raised in Karl, Millar continued to chat affably, Karl not deigning to answer. Finally Millar said:

"You seem annoyed."

Karl lost control of himself and leaped to his feet. He went close to Millar, staring into his eyes.

"I am annoyed. Do you want to know why?" he demanded, putting all the insolence he could command into his tone.

"No," Millar replied with a smile.

"I want to tell you why," Karl declared.

"Please don't," Millar said deprecatingly.

"Yes, I will," Karl went on belligerently. "I am amazed at the change which has come over you since this afternoon. Don't imagine that it is on account of Olga—we won't discuss her at all."

"Certainly not; she is out of the question," Millar assented warmly.

"Absolutely," Karl went on. "I came here this evening determined to ask Elsa to marry me."

"Fine! I am very glad to hear it. I wish you good luck, my boy!" Millar cried with enthusiasm.

"You are glad?"

"Delighted," Millar assured him.

"It does not take you long to change your mind," Karl continued, still with a truculent air. "This afternoon you insisted I should not marry Elsa. To-night you are delighted at the prospect.""Oh, yes; I see the matter now in a different light."

"Then it was Olga who ran away as I entered!" Karl almost shouted, glaring at him menacingly.

"Ran away? Why should she run away?" Millar asked, pretending embarrassment.

"Don't act like a cad!" Karl cried threateningly.

"What do you mean, Karl?"

"I mean exactly what I say. Don't act like a cad. If you were a gentleman you would hide your pleasure."

Millar pretended to be shocked at the indignation of the young artist, which secretly delighted him.

"Don't talk that way, Karl," he urged. "As you seem to have penetrated my secret, I suppose I might as well—but have you made up your mind to marry Elsa?"

"Absolutely."

"And you will not change your mind—you promise?"

"I will not change my mind."

"Well, of course, if that is the case, I can tell you. I——"He hesitated as if embarrassed at his own question. Karl cried roughly:

"And did you succeed?"

"Well, I——"

"What of her husband?"

"Ah, Karl, he is deaf, dumb and blind," Millar cried gleefully.

Stifled with the pain at his heart, Karl turned away.

"This afternoon, at my house, you met her for the first time," he said.

"Ah, Karl, she is a clever woman; cleverer than I thought," Millar said, affecting tremendous enthusiasm. "She deceived me this afternoon about her true character; she has been deceiving all of you. I am sure of it. Oh, she is grand, fantastic, passionate, daring. Think of it, Karl," he went on, going close to the boy and leaning over him, bringing out his words so that every one seemed to penetrate his heart; "think of it, to-night a kiss behind a door in front of which her husband was standing. Danger fascinates her. And just now, a moment before you came, we agreed——"

"So it was she?" Karl interrupted."Oh, yes, it was she," Millar admitted. "I suggested a wild plan, Karl; almost too daring for the first day of our acquaintance. Her honor, position, everything depend upon its success. Of course I did not dream she would carry it out. I suggested it merely to sound the depths of her passion. But she loved the idea and insisted upon doing it this very night. If it fails we are lost."

Karl trembled with apprehension for Olga, whom he believed in the devilish power of this man.

"What is it?" he asked.

"She will be here in one minute, dressed in an opera cloak—and nothing else. Think of it, Karl; the daring of it. She will walk through the ballroom on my arm, among all those people, her friends, her husband, with no one in the secret but we two—and you. Ah, Karl, I told you she would be mine," Millar concluded with rapturous accents.

With a wild cry Karl sprang at Millar, hurling one word at him:

"Liar!"

"Karl, be careful," Millar protested, avoiding him."It's a lie; a damnable, dirty lie!" Karl cried, trying blindly to reach him, to grasp his throat to throttle him.

Millar deftly avoided him and laughed triumphantly.

"I have trapped you who tried to trap me," he cried. "You love Olga Hofmann."

"Yes, I love her," Karl cried loudly. "I love her, and yet I will marry Elsa. Now, I have listened to your infernal lies; I have watched you gloat over them. Men like you steal a woman's reputation and boast of it and call it a success. But you shall pay for it, now, this minute, when I kick you out of the house. Out with you, like a sneak-thief that you are!"

He advanced determinedly on Millar, who quietly faced him.

"Remember, Karl, that I have the pistol now," he said coolly.

"Out with you, you sneak-thief; I am not afraid of you," Karl cried again.

He was about to seize Millar by the throat, when he started back in amazement at what seemed to be the fulfilment of the other's sinister promise. Olga stepped through the door into the room. She was clothed from head to foot in a beautiful, shimmering, fur-trimmed cloak.

Above the top button gleamed her bare throat. Her white arms projected from the short sleeves. The hem of the skirt fell to the tips of her white satin shoes.

As Olga entered she gave one glance at Karl and then moved away from him, and stood beside the table at which she and Millar had been seated. She saw the wild rage stamped on his face, and her woman's intuition made her know that Millar had told him what she had divined he meant. The situation frightened her, and she felt on the point of fleeing from the room or casting aside the cloak; but she resolved to see the game through.

Karl stared at her, rage giving place to amazement, then to despair. For full a minute no one spoke. The music floated in softly from the ballroom, mingled with the hum of voices and laughter. Olga was the first to break the stillness, but she did not look at him as she spoke."Karl, this is the first time I have had a chance to talk with you to-night," she said.

"What is that?" Karl absently asked.

He had not heard; his mind was confused, bewildered. Millar, cynically misunderstanding his question, said quickly:

"Why, that is an opera cloak."

Olga turned quickly, fearful that the remark might cause an eruption which she could not control. She cried impulsively, seeking to divert the threatening train of conversation:

"The ball is a great success. Every one is merry; every one dances as if it were the first affair of the season. The girls are all as happy as young widows who have just taken off mourning."

"I have observed it," Millar agreed with enthusiasm. "It is splendid. But why is Karl so sad amid all this merry-making?" he added.

"Why are you sad, Karl?" Olga asked, turning to him.

"I sad? You are silly," Karl cried with forced gayety. "I never felt happier in all my life."There was a touch of hysteria in his voice that made Olga's heart go out to him.

"I am glad you are having such a good time," she said.

"Yes, yes; I feel like a schoolboy," Karl cried wildly; "like a young tiger. I'm mad with joy. I will get drunk to-night. I will drink, drink drink until the angels in heaven sing to me—as you said this afternoon," he added, turning to Millar.

"No, no, Karl," Olga pleaded, thoroughly frightened. "Why, you never drank. Why should you drink to-night?"

"Because I am doing things to-night I never did before," Karl replied bitterly. "I have never been engaged before; to-night I shall be engaged."

"Good! fine, Karl," Millar exclaimed. "She is a splendid girl."

"Splendid girl! What do I care what sort of a girl she is? It's not the girl; it's marriage—something new. I want to see what it is like."

"For a bridegroom you are not very gay," Millar said tauntingly.

"Gay! Why should I be gay? I am drinking the last bitter drops of my bachelor days—but I'll swallow them, and then—purity."

"Bravo, Karl!" Olga said.

"Oh, I don't care what any one else thinks about it," Karl sneered at her. "I am doing this to please myself."

Olga was hurt and surprised at his tone. She had never seen him so completely beside himself before; she had never heard him speak so bitterly, so vindictively. As she watched him he looked at her, and a spasm of pain contorted his face. He pointed his finger at her accusingly, and cried:

"Why are you wearing that cloak in the house?"

"Madam Hofmann may be cold," Millar suggested quietly.

"Yes, yes; I am cold," Olga said hurriedly, drawing the cloak around her more closely.

"You are fortunate to have such a beautiful cloak," Millar said, determined now to keep them at the main point of his game.

"Suppose we do not talk about the cloak," Olga said. "You and Elsa seemed to get on nicely to-night, Karl."

"Yes," he replied absently.

"Really, it was charming to watch such devoted young people," Millar said.

Karl flashed a look of hatred at him and turned again to Olga.

"That cloak is lined with fur, isn't it?"

Before she could reply Millar had interrupted in his silken, insinuating voice:

"Yes, soft, smooth fur."

"I did not speak to you," Karl cried at him savagely. "Well?" he demanded of Olga.

"Soft, smooth fur," Olga replied. "It is cold in here."

"Nonsense; it is hot. I feel stifling," Karl declared.

"I feel chilly," Olga insisted.

"Perhaps madam is not dressed warmly enough," Millar insinuated. "You should wear plenty of clothes in the winter time, or you may run the chance of taking cold."

Olga caught her breath and then she answered:

"I love to take chances.""You do, eh?" Karl cried.

"Yes; what is it to you?" she asked tauntingly.

Karl threw his self-control to the winds. With flaming face and a voice that shook with anger, he cried:

"Aren't you two afraid of me?"

Olga was afraid and she looked at him apprehensively. Millar smiled his cynical, sinister smile and answered:

"Afraid? I'm not afraid of the husband. Why should I be afraid of a moralizing, joyless bridegroom?"

Karl took a step toward him, when Herman entered the room. All three were silent and Herman looked at them in surprise.

"What is this—a conspiracy?" he asked gayly.

"Oh, no, merely a conversation," Millar said.

"Well, Karl, how are you getting along with Elsa?" Herman asked, taking the boy by the arm and walking off with him.

Olga watched them as they disappeared, going into the ballroom, Karl evidently reluctant to be taken away. Then she turned to Millar.

"What did you tell him about my cloak?"

"About the cloak? Nothing."

"You did not tell him——"

"What?"

"He stared at me as if he thought—thought I had on only this cloak."

"That is exactly what I told him," Millar assured her.

"Oh, how could you?"

"Now don't be shocked," Millar said cynically. "You knew it. The moment you entered the room you realized that I had told him. And what is more you liked it."

"How dare you!" Olga gasped, "If I had understood——"

"If you had understood, would you have taken off the cloak?"

"Yes."

"Well, now you understand, why do you not take it off?"

Olga raised her head and looked straight into Millar's eyes. She said not a word, but drew her cloak more closely about her with a movement that sent a thrill of suspicion and surprise through him.

"Madam, you didn't really?" he cried in amazement.

"Do you think I am a child?" she asked. "Do you imagine that I did not understand your suggestion from the very first? You wanted me to fool Karl. Perhaps I have fooled you. How do you know I am not nude beneath this cloak?"

"Madam!" Millar cried in wide-eyed amazement.

"Now let us see if you will take a chance," Olga said. "Give me your arm, my dear doctor, and we will walk together through the ballroom."

Millar was at a loss for a moment. His imperturbable calm was broken. Olga had matched her woman's intuition against his cunning and had won. But his bewilderment gave way to undisguised admiration, and, bowing as gallantly as a youthful sweetheart, he gave her his arm.

As they were about to leave, however, Karl suddenly barred their way, coming hurriedly in from the ballroom."Are you coming in with us, Karl?" Olga asked, as they paused.

"No," Karl almost shouted; "and you are not going—you stay here."

"What do you mean?"

"I mean what I said. You stay here. And you, too," he added to Millar.

He turned and closed the ballroom door. Then he faced them again.

"We will settle this thing right here. Take off that cloak."

"I will not."

"By heavens, I'll tear it off," he cried furiously, rushing at her.

Olga stood unmoved. Millar caught Karl by the arm and stopped him.

"Why did you stop him?" Olga asked, smiling.

She was perfectly self-possessed now and in command of the situation. Millar was frankly afraid that she had taken his meaning literally. Karl was mad with rage and jealousy. Olga was unruffled.

"Madam, I was afraid," Millar said.

"You will take it off," Karl cried, still held back by Millar. "If you do not, I'll find your husband and he shall have the pleasure."

Olga turned to him sweetly.

"Karl, will you help me off with my cloak?" she asked.

Karl almost leaped toward her, but when his hands nearly touched her cloak he drew back, afraid. Slowly he backed away from her, while she smiled.

"Dr. Millar, will you help me remove my cloak?" she asked sweetly.

Millar put out his hands as if to do so, but quickly folded them over his breast, bowed very low and smiled, cynically shaking his head.

Olga looked first at one and then the other with her tantalizing smile. The three might have been carved of stone, so still were they when Herman entered.

"Hello, Karl; I lost you when I went to find Elsa," he said. "What are you talking about?"

"I think we have been discussing cloaks," Millar said.

"Oh, I see Olga is wearing one. Isn't it rather warm for that, dear?""Yes, it is, but I felt chilly a while ago," Olga answered. "Will you help me off with it, Herman?"

Herman stepped to her side as she loosened the clasps, and lifted the beautiful fur-lined garment from her shoulders. She stood before them again in the beauty of her shimmering evening gown, her white arms and shoulders gleaming, her lips parted in a dazzling smile.

Karl did not speak. He half involuntarily made a step toward Olga, and she, fearing what he might say, cried lightly:

"Now, I have devoted too much time to you two. My guests are departing. I must go. Come, Herman."