Shortly before seven o\'clock, that same morning, a limousine car pulled up quietly just short of the corner of Madison Avenue, and its occupant, with a word on alighting to his driver, addressed himself briskly to the door of the ground-floor flat.

He was a handsome, well dressed, well-set-up and well-nourished animal of something more than middle-age: a fact which the pitilessly clear light of early morning betrayed, discovering lines and hollows in his clean-shaven countenance which would ordinarily have escaped notice.

But he had passed that time of life when he could suffer a sleepless night of anxiety without visibly paying for it.

His intention to announce himself by ringing the bell was promptly anticipated, the door opening before his finger could touch the button. He checked momentarily in obvious surprise, then jauntily lifted his hat as he stepped hurriedly inside.

"Why, my dear!" he addressed the woman who held the door—"up so early!"

"I haven\'t been to bed, of course, Mr. Arlington," Joan informed him.

"Well," he observed, not without envy, "you don\'t look it."

"I\'ve been packing all night," she returned. "Of course—I can\'t stay here, after what\'s happened."

"Of course not," he agreed sympathetically.

Having closed the outside door, she moved before him into a small drawing-room which adjoined the entry-hall on the left, and when he had followed shut its door with particular care.

"Sara\'s still packing," she explained, turning to Arlington. "Well?"

He hesitated, looking her over with a doubtful eye. But she was, at least outwardly, quite cool and collected, her manner exhibiting no undue amount of anxiety.

Still, a certain amount of make-believe would seem no more than decent....

"Look here," he said almost sharply—"you\'re feeling all right, eh?"

"Quite—only tired as a dog; and naturally—"

"I understand," he interrupted. "But you\'ll be fit to go on tonight, you think?"

"Don\'t worry about that," Joan advised him decidedly. "I\'m hoping to get a nap before evening, but even if I don\'t, I know the first duty of an actress is always to her public."

"Yes," Arlington agreed briefly, avoiding her eyes.... "Still, I must ask you to be prepared."

Joan\'s figure stiffened slightly, and her dark eyes widened.

"Dead?" she questioned in a low voice.

Arlington nodded. "I\'m sorry.... About half an hour after we got him home."

The girl sat down suddenly and buried her face in her hands.

"Oh!" she cried in a stifled voice—"how awful!"

"There!" Arlington moved over and rested a hand familiarly on her shoulder. "Brace up. You\'ll forget all about this before long."

"O no—never!" she moaned through her fingers.

"But you will," he insisted, looking down at her with an odd expression. "To begin with, I\'m going to make it my business to see that you forget. You must. You can\'t do justice to your—genius, if you keep harping on this accident. It wasn\'t your fault, you know. Just as soon as I\'ve arranged a few details.... By the way, how\'s the Cardrow woman?"

"Asleep," Joan answered. "She hasn\'t made a bit of trouble since the doctor gave her ............