"Olivetta!"

"And I didn't dare cable you for more. For if I had sent a cable to you here, it might have betrayed you."

"And what did you do?"

"There was nothing for me to do but to--to--sell some of your gowns."

"Oh!" Mrs. De Peyster was beginning dimly to see the drift of things.

Olivetta's mind wandered to another phase of her tribulations.

"And the price I got for them was a swindle, Caroline. It was--it was a tragedy! For your black chiffon, and your silver satin, and your spangled net--"

"But this person they took for me?" interrupted Mrs. De Peyster.

"Oh, whoever she is, she must have bought one of them. She could have bought it for nothing--and that Frenchman who cheated me--would have doubled his money. And after she bought it--she--she"--Olivetta's voice rang out with hysterical resentment--"she got us all into this trouble by walking into the Seine. It's the most popular pastime in Paris, to walk into the Seine. But why," ended Olivetta with a spiteful burst,--"why couldn't she have amused herself in her own clothes? That's what I want to know!"

"And then? What did you do?" breathed Mrs. De Peyster.

"When it came out three days later that it was you, I was so--so frightened that I didn't know what to do. I didn't dare deny the report, for that would have been to expose you. And I didn't dare cable to you that it was all a mistake and that I was all right, for that would have been just as bad. Perhaps I might have acted differently, but I--well, I ran away. I crossed to London with your trunks. There I learned that--that they were sending your remains home. I realized I had to get you word somehow, and I realized the only way was for me to come and tell you. So I sold some more of your gowns, and just caught the Mauretania, and here I am."

So ending, Olivetta, as though her bones had melted, subsided into a gelatinous heap of dejection, dabbing her crimson eyes with a handkerchief already saturated with liquid woe.

"It's a relief to know it wasn't you," said Mrs. De Peyster.

"I'm sure--it's kind of you--to say so," snuffled Olivetta gratefully.

"But, aside from your being safe, our situation is unchanged," said Mrs. De Peyster in tremulous, awe-stricken tone. "For that--that person is coming here just the same!"

"I know. The horrid interloper!"

"She may be here any minute," said Mrs. De Peyster. "What are we going to do?"

"We must think of something quick," spoke up Matilda nervously. "For it's almost time for your funeral, ma'am, and after that--"

"I've been thinking all the voyage over," broke in Olivetta. "And I could think of only one plan."

"And that?" Mrs. De Peyster eagerly inquired.

There was an excited, desperate light in Olivetta's flooding eyes.

"Couldn't you manage, in some way, while n.o.body is looking, to slip into that Frenchwoman's place; and then, before the ceremony was over, you could sit up and say you'd been in a cataleptic fit. Such things have happened. I've read about them."

"Absurd, Olivetta! Quite absurd!" quavered Mrs. De Peyster.

"I dare say it is," agreed Olivetta, subsiding again into her limp misery. "Oh, why did I ever go to Paris! I hate the place!"

"Don't give way; think!" commanded Mrs. De Peyster, who was in a condition not far removed from Olivetta's. "Think, Matilda!"

"Yes, ma'am," said Matilda obediently.

"You think, Caroline," whimpered Olivetta. "You always had such a superior intellect, and were always so equal to every emergency."

Mrs. De Peyster thus reminded of what was expected of her life-long leadership, tried to collect her scattered forces, and sat with pale, drawn, twitching face, staring at her predicament--and her two faithful subjects sat staring at her, waiting the inspired idea for escape that would fall from her never-failing lips. Moment after moment of deepest silence followed.

At length Mrs. De Peyster spoke.

"There are only two ways. First, for me to go down and disclose myself--"

"But the scandal! The humiliation!" cried Olivetta.

"Yes, that first way will never do," said Mrs. De Peyster. "The second way is not a solution; it is only a means to a possible solution. But before I state the way, I must ask you, Olivetta, if any one saw you come in?"

"There were a number of people coming and going, people preparing for the funeral--but I watched my chance, and used my latch-key, and I'm sure no one connected with the house saw me."

"That is good. If any outsiders saw you, they will merely believe that you also were some person concerned in the funeral. As for my plan, it is simple. You must both slip out of here unseen; you, Olivetta, will, of course, say that you have returned to the city to attend my funeral. From the outside you both must help me."

"Yes. But you, Caroline?" said Olivetta.

"As for me, I must stay here, quietly, just as I have done for the last three weeks. I still have some supplies left. After everything has quieted down, I shall watch my chance, and steal out of the house late some night. That's as far as I have planned, but once away I can work out some explanation for the terrible mistake and then come home.

That seems the only way; that seems the only chance."

"You always were a wonder!" cried Olivetta admiringly.

"Then you agree to the plan?"

"Of course!"

"And you, Matilda?"

"Of course, ma'am."

Thus praised and seconded, Mrs. De Peyster resumed some faint shadow of her accustomed dignity.

"Very well, then. You must both leave here this instant."

Olivetta threw her arms about her cousin's neck.

"Good-bye, Caroline," she quavered. "You really have no hard feelings against me?"

"No, none. You must go!" said Mrs. De Peyster.

"I'm sure, with you in charge, it's all going to come out right!" said the clinging Olivetta hopefully.

"You must really go!" And Mrs. De Peyster pressed her and Matilda toward the door.

But midway to the door the trio halted suddenly. Coming up the stairway was the sound of hurried feet--of many pairs of feet.

The footsteps came through the hall. The trio did not breathe. The footsteps paused before the sitting-room door. The confederates gripped each others' arms.