The sinner stands with tearless eye
And looks on virtue\'s lovely grace:—
Too late, her soul\'s repentant cry
The brand of sin is on her face

At the very hour in the morning when Mrs. Sinclair and her servants were searching every nook and corner of the elegant residence, away over on the Surrey side of the great bridge, in a large brick house, standing far back from the street, two people, a man and a woman, were bending over a delicate form, clad in an evening dress of pure white satin that looked strangely out of place in this scarlet hued Harem of unchastity. The very hangings blushed in rose red symphonies for the sins and impurities of the inmates. The heavy carpet was one unbroken stain of blood red coloring. The daylight peered through the[Pg 66] rich window drapings and crimsoned the entire apartment with its guilty glances within. The exterior of the house was dull, dark and uninviting, but within, the glare of crimson, of dull red and deeper garnet, blended in every article of furniture and garnished walls, ceilings and windows in bewildering and feverish arrangement. Even the glasses on the small jasper table by the couch were red with the evil light of their intoxicating contents.

The woman\'s dress was opened low at the throat and her jet black hair and clear olive skin were in sombre contrast to the clinging, reddish garment.

That the man had carefully disguised both voice and raiment was plainly evident, but that he was no stranger to the house or its extraordinary mistress, was also a self evident fact.

There were few who knew of this curious habitation, whose only furnishings were draperies and divans, small jasper tables and luxuriant couches, but the few who did were well content to contribute most generously for its maintenance, and more for the occupants of its numerous apartments, whose only glimpse of daylight was that which fell through the shamefaced windows and rested, like[Pg 67] the hands of a bashful lover, upon charms, half strange and half familiar to his touch.

Julia Webber the mistress of this peculiar mansion, bent for a moment over the silent form, then she raised her eyes and looked with a strange, unseeing expression, into the wall beyond, as was her habit when addressing any one.

The voice was low and distinct, but as cold and unsympathetic as steel, as she said with hardly a movement of the lips, "Well what are your orders, Monsieur?"

The man at her side turned his eyes from the quiet face upon the couch and looked haughtily down upon her as he answered sharply, "The same as usual. Why do you ask?"

For an instant he caught the gleam of fire through her half closed, panther like eyes as she gave him a searching side glance to note the effect of her brief question.

"You decline my offer, then," she asked, even more coldly, more distinctly than before.

"What do I want with you?" the man exclaimed fiercely in excellent English. "Have I not told you, Julia, that my brief infatuation ended the hour[Pg 68] that it began? Ah, she awakes!" he exclaimed suddenly, and bent lower over the prostrate girl.

Over Julia Webber\'s face there crept an ominous, ashen pallor. Her eyes blazed with the fury of a woman scorned, while her slender, jeweled fingers clutched the folds of her lurid garments with the grasp of a dying agony. Another moment and her emotions were controlled. The vindictive gleam in her eyes was unnoticed by the man, for at that moment his whole thought and attention was given to the white robed figure.

Stella, for it was she, opened her eyes and looked around the unfamiliar room in utter bewilderment. Then her gaze rested upon the young man\'s face, but without a shadow of recognition in the face.

With a smile of astonishing sweetness he bent gently over her and whispered softly, "Do not be frightened, Stella. You are safe with me. Rest a little and I will explain all."

Then, as her eyes ............