"Then we will return it to her. You must not take it."

"It is too late: I have taken it."

"It is not too late. What is the time? It is only half-past ten. I am quite certain that Miss Keys is not in bed yet. Come, Flo, put on your hat; your mother won't mind. We will take the latchkey and let ourselves in. We will go to the hotel and return the money."

"Oh, I dare not."

"Then I dare," said Kitty. "You have told me nothing, remember; but I will not let you sink or yield to this temptation."

Florence colored crimson.

"You have a great power over me," she said; "I feel as if you were my good angel, and Bertha were my bad."

"Then for heaven's sake, Florence, yield to the entreaties of your good angel. Come, come; the hotel won't be shut up. Where is the money?"

"In my pocket."

"Then come immediately."

Florence was inspired by Kitty, whose voice was strong, and her face brave and bright, as befitted one who lived for the right and rejected the wrong.

"I am glad," she said to herself; "I did not ask her counsel: she has forced it upon me. She is my good angel."

A moment later the two girls left the cottage. They walked quickly in the direction of the big hotel. There were lights in many rooms, servants walking about, and the hall-door was open. They walked up the steps, and Kitty entered the hall. Florence followed her, pale and trembling.

"Can I see Miss Keys?" asked Kitty of the hall porter.

"I will enquire if Miss Keys is up still," replied the man. "What name shall I say?"

"Miss Sharston. I want to see her for a moment about something important."

"Will you come in, Miss?"

"No; perhaps she would see me here. Say also that Miss Florence Aylmer is with me."

The man withdrew. A moment later, Bertha, in her evening dress, looking pretty and excited, ran downstairs.

"What is it? What's the matter?" she said. "Is that you, Florence?

Kitty, what is the matter?"

"We don't want to stay; we don't want you to tell Mrs. Aylmer, and we don't want to get you into trouble of any sort," said Kitty, speaking rapidly and drawing Bertha aside as she spoke. "But we want to give you this back, and to let you know that what you suggested was impossible--quite impossible."

As she spoke, she thrust the little packet which contained the fifty pounds into Bertha's hand, and then took Florence's.

"Come, Flo; I think that is all," she said.

Bertha was too stunned to say a word. Before she had recovered from her astonishment, the two girls had walked down the steps and gone out into the night.

"What does this mean?" said Bertha to herself. "I don't like it at all, but, thank goodness, we are leaving here to-morrow. I don't suppose Florence will really tell on me. I must discover some other way to get her into my power."

She went slowly back to the sitting-room. Mrs. Aylmer looked up discontentedly.

"Who called to see you? I didn't know you had any friends in the town, Bertha?" she said.

"Nor have I, but a couple of young girls who are staying here called to return me a little packet which I had dropped on the beach to-day and lost. They found it; my name was on it, and they brought it back to me."

"Oh, indeed; I thought I heard the waiter say that Miss Florence Aylmer had called."

"You were mistaken, Mrs. Aylmer," replied Bertha, in her calm voice. She fixed her grey-green eyes on the widow's face, and took up the book which she had been reading.

"Shall we go on with this, or shall we have a game of two-handed patience?" she said quietly.

"I will go to bed," said Mrs. Aylmer; "I am tired and cross. After all, my life is very dull. You didn't manage to amuse me to-day, Bertha; you were not like your old self; and then I miss Maurice. He has become almost indispensable to me. I hope he will return to-morrow."

"We shall probably find him before us at Aylmer's Court."

"I shall send him a telegram the first thing to-morrow to ask him to hurry home," said Mrs. Aylmer. "He is such a pleasant, bright fellow that life is insupportable without him. You used to be much more amusing than you are now, Bertha. Is anything the matter?"

"Nothing, my dear friend," said Bertha. She looked full at Mrs. Aylmer, and tears rose slowly to her eyes. Now, no one could possess a more pathetic face than Bertha when she pleased. Mrs. Aylmer was not a good-natured woman, she was not kind-hearted, she was not in any sense of the word amiable, but she had certain sentiments, and Bertha managed to arouse them. When she saw tears in her young companion's eyes now, she laid her hand on her arm.

"What is it, dear? I should be sorry to be cross with you. You are a very good girl and suit me admirably."

"It was just the fear that I was not quite suiting you that was troubling me," replied Bertha. "Say that again, kind, dear benefactress, and you will make me the happiest girl in the world."

"No one ever suited me so well. You are surely not jealous of my affection for dear Maurice?"

"Oh, no; I love him myself," said Bertha.

Mrs. Aylmer looked grave. She rose slowly.

"Ring for my maid, will you, Bertha? I shall go to bed; I am tired,"

said the great lady.

The maid appeared a moment later, and the two left the room together. As Mrs. Aylmer slowly undressed, she thought of Bertha's last words: "I love him myself."

"Nonsense," said Mrs. Aylmer to herself; "she is ten years his senior if she's a day; nevertheless, I must be careful. She is a clever woman; I should be sorry to have to do without her, but I often wonder what her past was. I made very few enquiries with regard to her history. I wanted someone to be with me at the time, and she took my fancy."

Downstairs Bertha slowly unfastened the little parcel and looked at the five ten-pound notes which were rolled up within.

"After all, it's just as well that I should have this money by me as that I should give it to Florence Aylmer," she said to herself. "I must think of some other way to tempt her, and the money will be useful. I shall put it back into the post-office and wait awhile. She is certain to go to London, and equally certain to fail. I can tempt her with some of my stories. I will manage to get her address. Yes, clever as you think yourself, Florence, you will be in my power, and before many weeks are over."

CHAPTER XII.

ALONE IN LONDON.