Two weeks later the organ loft of St Blank's Church was occupied by a
stranger. For a few hours the Baroness felt a wild hope in her heart
that Miss Irving had been sent away.

But inquiry elicited the information that the young musician had
merely employed a substitute because her mother was lying seriously
ill at home.

It was then that the Baroness put into execution a desire she had to
make the personal acquaintance of Joy Irving.

The desire had sprung into life with the knowledge of the rector's
interest in the girl. No one knew better than the Baroness how to
sow the seeds of doubt, distrust and discord between two people whom
she wished to alienate. Many a sweetheart, many a wife, had she
separated from lover and husband, scarcely leaving a sign by which
the trouble could be traced to her, so adroit and subtle were her
methods.

She felt that she could insert an invisible wedge between these two
hearts, which would eventually separate them, if only she might make
the acquaintance of Miss Irving. And now chance had opened the way
for her.

She made her resolve known to the rector.

"I am deeply interested in the young organist whom I had the pleasure
of meeting some weeks ago," she said, and she noted with a sinking
heart the light which flashed into the man's face at the mere mention
of the girl. "I understand her mother is seriously ill, and I think
I will go around and call. Perhaps I can be of use. I understand
Mrs Irving is not a churchwoman, and she may be in real need, as the
family is in straitened circumstances. May I mention your name when
I call, in order that Miss Irving may not think I intrude?"