Millar's sardonic face was wreathed in smiles as he looked after the two young girls, each of whom carried from his hateful presence a bruised heart.

With Mimi it was the fate of a child of the underworld—something to which she was pathetically resigned. With her there was no struggle. She knew that when she ceased to charm she must go her way and find another man; a master rather than a sweetheart.

Elsa could not have told herself what fear made her fly from the studio after Mimi, but she feared that she was also doomed to give up the hope of her heart. It was her first cruel disappointment, but Mimi had made her see that she was beaten, and, in spite of her earlier resolution to fight, she saw that fighting would bring only unhappiness. She hurried to her waiting carriage and was driven home, where she locked herself in her room to weep alone.

And Millar, the sinister being, ever at hand with his insidiously evil suggestions, chuckled as he watched them go. He threw himself into a chair and rang the bell for Heinrich. The old servant entered rebelliously, but, trained to habits of obedience, he could not give expression to his feeling of hatred and distrust of his master's strange visitor. As for Millar, he even seemed to find something amusing in the old man's obvious aversion.

"Bring me tea and brandy," he ordered peremptorily.

"Yes, sir."

"Is your master up?"

"Yes, sir."

"Has any one seen him this morning?"

"No, sir. Madam Hofmann's maid was here three times."

"What for?" Millar demanded quickly.

"She wished to know when Madam Hofmann might see Mr. Karl. I told her I had strict orders not to call him before 3 o'clock."Millar looked at his watch and saw that it was a few minutes after 3 o'clock.

"Humph! We shall have another visitor shortly," he muttered. "I think I begin to see the completion of my work. It shall be this afternoon. Get my tea," he added to Heinrich, "and serve it in the studio."

The old man went out. Millar paced slowly up and down the floor, looking at his watch, until he heard the door bell ring.

"The beautiful Olga," he said, stepping softly from the reception-room into the studio and leaving the way clear for Olga.

She was admitted by Heinrich. She hurried into the room, looked wildly about her and sank into a seat. For a moment she could not speak.

All night and all day, since Millar's shadow hovered above her fainting form in her own home, she had been torn by the emotions raised by the letter. It was a confession she had never meant to make. She dreaded the thought of Karl ever seeing it. Heinrich waited respectfully.

"Is Mr. Karl at home?" she asked.

"Yes, madam.""My maid told me he could not be seen until 3 o'clock. It is now after 3. May I see him?"

"If you will wait a few minutes longer, madam, I will tell him that you are here."

Heinrich started toward the studio.

"One moment," Olga called after him. "Has any one seen Mr. Karl to-day?"

"No, madam."

"Has he received no letter?"

"No, madam."

"Thank God!" she exclaimed fervently. "Go, Heinrich; tell him I am in a great hurry and must see him at once."

"I am afraid, madam, you will have to wait a few minutes for Mr. Karl to dress," Heinrich said. "Shall I tell Dr. Millar you are here?"

"Who?" Olga cried, springing up in dread.

"Dr. Millar; the gentleman who was here yesterday," Heinrich said.

"Is he with your master?" Olga cried in fright.

"Yes, madam."

"Oh, God! am I too late? Tell me, did you see Dr. Millar give a letter to your master?"

"He may have done so, madam. I cannot remember."

Olga walked nervously up and down the room, while Heinrich waited, sympathizing at her distress. The old man was mystified, but he felt that Millar was to blame for the grief which his young master's beautiful visitor showed.

"It may not be too late," Olga cried to herself. Then she said to Heinrich:

"Please tell Dr. Millar to come down. Do not tell him who is here; simply say a lady wishes to see him at once."

"Yes, madam."

Heinrich withdrew, leaving Olga, with clenched hands and twitching features, walking up and down the room. It was thus Millar saw her as he entered, with his cynical smile, at which she shuddered.

"You are the lady who wished to see me at once?" he asked, with his most polite bow. "I am honored, madam."

"Yes, I sent for you," Olga said, not knowing how to begin."And what may I do for you?"

"Please tell me quickly—I am trembling—did you——"

"Yes, dear lady, I delivered your letter."

Olga sank into her chair and covered her face with her hands, while dry, tearless sobs shook her body. Millar looked at her unmoved, and as Heinrich entered with the tea tray he turned coolly to the old servant.

"Put that tea here," he said, indicating a table near Olga. "And the brandy. Thank you. You may go."

He poured himself a cup of tea and began to sip it, looking the while at the terrified woman before him.