The Stranger in Bond Street

As Dorise walked up Bond Street, smartly dressed, next afternoon, on her way to her dressmaker's, she was followed by a well-dressed young girl in black, dark-eyed, with well-cut, refined features, and apparently a lady.

From Piccadilly the stranger had followed Dorise unseen, until at the corner of Maddox Street she overtook her, and smiling, uttered her name.

"Yes," responded Doris in surprise. "But I regret--you have the advantage of me?"

"Probably," replied the stranger. "Do you recollect the bal blanc at Nice and a certain white cavalier? I have a message from him to give you in secret."

"Why in secret?" Dorise asked rather defiantly.

"Well--for certain reasons which I think you can guess," answered the girl in black, as she strolled at Dorise's side.

"Why did not you call on me at home?"

"Because of your mother. She would probably have been a little inquisitive. Let us go into some place--a tea-room--where we can talk," she suggested. "I have come to see you concerning Mr. Henfrey."

"Where is he?" asked Dorise, in an instant anxious.

"Quite safe. He arrived in Malines yesterday--and is with friends."

"Has he had my letters?"

"Unfortunately, no. But do not let us talk here. Let's go in yonder," and she indicated the Laurel Tea Rooms, which, the hour being early, they found, to their satisfaction, practically deserted.

At a table in the far corner they resumed their conversation.

"Why has he not received my letters?" asked Dorise. "It is nearly a month ago since I first wrote."