CHAPTER XVI.

"There's a lady in the blue morning-room to see you, Miss Chandler!"

Evelyn Chandler turned to her maid with anything but an amiable expression of countenance.

"Her card?" she exclaimed with annoyance.

"She gave me none. She wished me to say that her call was purely a matter of business, that she would not detain you longer than necessity required, and begged that you would not decline to see her."

Something in the message aroused Miss Chandler's curiosity.

She hesitated a moment; then with a gesture of deprecation, said:

"Show her up here! I don't feel inclined to walk down-stairs."

Concealing the disgust she felt at the well-known indolence of her mistress, the maid left the room, but returned a little later, followed by a woman clothed in somber black.

A heavy veil was drawn across her face, a covering which she took the precaution not to remove until the maid had retired and closed the door.

"My maid tells me your call is upon business," said Miss Chandler, curtly. "I have but a few moments to spare, therefore, you will excuse me if I ask you to be brief."

Without a word the veil was lifted, revealing the lovely features of Leonie Cuyler.

Miss Chandler was on the point of crying out, but by a mighty effort restrained the inclination.

She drew herself up coldly, a thousand lightning flashes darting from her eyes.

"To what am I indebted for the honor of this visit?" she asked icily.

"It is to tell you that I have come," returned Leonie, quietly taking a chair that had not been offered her. "Will you excuse me if I consume a little of your valuable time in telling you how I risked my freedom and my honor only a short time ago to save you from the consequences of your own folly. Will you----"

"No, I will not!" interrupted Miss Chandler sternly. "I am quite convinced that you have not come here without a purpose, therefore I request that you state it as speedily as possible, and without all this circumlocution. If you wish to impress me with the idea that I am under an obligation to you, I may as well assure you in the beginning that I do not recognize the fact; and even if I did, I am not one to be influenced by such considerations."

"Very well," said Leonie, assuming something of Miss Chandler's own manner. "If you are determined to have this war and not peace, I am ready for you.

"There was one," she continued, "to whom I owe more than I could ever repay were I granted a thousand years of life. No brother could have shown me greater tenderness, greater consideration, greater mercy."

"How touching!" murmured Miss Chandler, stifling a yawn.

"I refer," Leonie went on, as though the interruption had not been made, "to Mr. Lynde Pyne."

"I supposed as much. Lynde was always something of a Don Quixote. It is pleasant to hear of his generosity, but really if you don't hurry I shall have to leave you. I should not like, for your own sake, to have my father find you here."

"I have come to tell you, Miss Chandler, that the engagement that exists between you and Lynde Pyne must be broken!"

Miss Chandler shrugged her shapely shoulders carelessly.

"Have you come here to threaten me?" she asked coldly. "If you have you will find that you have attacked the wrong person. I think I have already demonstrated to you the fact that I am not in the least a coward."

She arose as she finished her sentence, and Leonie followed her example.

"Promise me," she said, "and keep your word, that you will break this engagement, and I swear to you, that so far as I am concerned, the secret of your birth and the knowledge of who was the thief in Leonard Chandler's household, shall be eternally preserved. Refuse, and whatever it may cost me, the entire matter shall be made public in time to save Lynde Pyne from the marriage that would not alone wreck his life, but his soul as well."

"I make no compact with you of any kind!" said Evelyn, harshly. "If you make this charge, without bringing ample proof to back up your assertions, I warn you that my father, Leonard Chandler, shall use the force of his entire fortune against you. His anger against you is already at fever heat, and I have but to speak the word that will make him your most deadly foe. As far as my love for Mr. Pyne is concerned, that is none of your business. Whether I love him or not, I intend to marry him, for reasons that do not in the least concern you. Now go, or the servants shall have instructions to put you out!"

There was not the slightest weakness in her demeanor, and Leonie knew it.

She had hoped to frighten her sister into measures, but she saw there was about as much possibility of that, as there was in frightening a desperado into giving himself into the hands of the authorities.

With little outward evidence of the disappointment she really felt, Leonie again wrapped the veil about her head and left the room.

For some time Evelyn Chandler stood there, seeming to be thinking deeply.

"She means every word that she has said," she muttered, below her breath. "She was a typewriter in a lawyer's office long enough to have absorbed some of their knowledge, and will, therefore, know exactly how to go to work. I cannot sit still and let her succeed, as undoubtedly she will if I do not immediately take measures of precaution; but what shall they be? I cannot consult my adopted father. Therefore, there is but one course left--I must consult my own father. Bah!"

The sentence was concluded with a shiver of repulsion, but it vanished almost before it had existed.

She sat down and took her chin in her hands, a favorite position when in deep thought.

"It is the only way!" she cried, at last. "Let me see! I have an engagement with my dressmaker at this hour, but when that is ended, we shall see what Ben Mauprat can suggest. A man who has been a scoundrel all his life certainly ought to be able to thwart a single-handed girl."