CHAPTER XXII. FOR LOVE AND DUTY.

Hetty gazed at the strange unsigned message with the feeling that she was being made the victim of some foolish joke. But who would play her a silly prank like that? Perhaps Gordon had had something to do with it.

At any rate, she must act. If it turned out to be a hoax she could apologise afterwards. But, on the other hand, it might be a matter of life and death; it might affect her lover's honour. It was a good thing that Hetty had been fortunate to handle the telegram where she could be secluded from the sharp eyes of her employer. Otherwise she would assuredly have betrayed herself. She tore the telegram into tiny fragments and pushed them under the edge of one of the mats. It was far better to be cautious.

She had herself well in hand when she stepped back into the box again. At any hazard she was going to carry out the instructions to the very letter. And she had a fairly good excuse ready to her hand. If Mamie was no better when she got home she would use that as a lever.

The performance came to an end at length. The dapper, smiling little Balmayne handed them both into the carriage and then went off smoking a cigarette like any honest gentleman whose conscience is at peace. Once home Hetty flew up to her little patient. She seemed to be restless and disturbed.

"Dr. Bruce has been, miss," nurse remarked. "He says Miss Mamie is not to be left alone. The Countess was to be told that."

Hetty was deeply interested. Was this another mere coincidence or was Bruce acting here like a puppet in the hands of the mysterious person who seemed to be pulling the strings in the drama? Anyway, it strengthened her hands.

There was a light supper in the dining-room. Countess Lalage talked fitfully, from time to time glancing at the clock. The gilt hands were striding on towards a quarter to twelve.

"I'm going to make a late call?" Leona Lalage said suddenly.

"I should like you to see Mamie first," said Hetty. She spoke coolly enough, but her heart was beating furiously. "She is not at all well tonight. Dr. Bruce has been here, and says she is not to be left alone. A mother's care----"

The Countess laughed lightly. Her mood seemed friendly.

"Very well," she said, "I'll come up for a moment. I'm not going far, and I shall not be a long time away. If there is a crisis in the case----"

"Mamie is far worse than you imagine," Hetty said coldly. "Your own constitution is so magnificent that you cannot understand weakness in others. If Mamie were mine I should be in grave anxiety about her."

Leona Lalage laughed again. Once more she glanced at the clock.

"Come along then," she said gaily. "I know I am a bad mother."

The child looked flushed and ill, her hand was hot, and she groaned in her sleep. The Countess bent and kissed her carelessly. She moved to her own room and Hetty followed. There was just a touch of hauteur in the manner of the Countess as she intimated that she had nothing further to say.

"Perhaps I have something to say to you," Hetty said between her teeth.

The hour had come to show her pluck and courage, and Hetty was not going to flinch. It wanted ten minutes to twelve by the clock on the dressing-table.

"You are forgetting yourself," the Countess said coldly. "Leave the room."

"When I have finished," Hetty replied. "You heard Dr. Bruce's message. He said that child should not be left. You may urge that I am sufficient, but there is a time for a mother's care. If I had my way you should not go."

It all sounded sorry nonsense in Hetty's ears, but she was playing her part, and merely talking against the clock. With blazing eyes the Countess advanced, but Hetty did not flinch.

"Stand aside," she said furiously, "and let me pass. If it was not for the child and the love she has for you I should dismiss you on the spot. Now go."

"I shall not go," Hetty cried. She was surprised at the ease with which she was working herself up into a genuine passion. "Nor shall you pass. You shall stay here as long as I please. Ring the bell and have me put out."

Sheer astonishment got the better of Leona Lalage's rage. That Hetty above all people should turn upon her like this was amazing. She looked again at the clock, which pointed to four minutes to twelve.

"You are disturbed and hysterical tonight," she said. "Go and lie down. I am a strong woman and if you provoke me too far----"

"You shall not go," Hetty gasped. "I say you shall not go. Nothing less than physical power will induce me to yield."

The anger of the other woman blazed out again magnificently. At the back of her mind was a haunting fear that Hetty was acting a part. It was absolutely imperative that she should leave the house at once. How if Hetty had discovered this and was taking this course to prevent her keeping her appointment?

The mere suggestion added flame to her anger. She caught Hetty by the arm and dragged her from the door. There was a crash and a tear as the dress sleeve parted, the quick rattle of a key in the lock, and a defiant smile from Hetty.

"I may be mad," she gasped, "but there is method in it. I may not----"

A deadly faintness came over her, she staggered to a chair and fell into it. As she did so the great clock on the landing boomed the hour of midnight.

Nothing mattered now, the thing was done, the victory accomplished. In a vague kind of way Hetty heard the cry of rage and disappointment uttered by her companion, she felt the key snatched with cruel force from her hand, there was a whirl of draperies and footsteps flying down the stairs.

Hetty dragged herself to her feet. She was utterly exhausted with her fight, but there was the fierce triumph of knowing that she had won. She had played her part and the rest of it was in cleverer hands than her own.

Meanwhile the Countess was tugging with impatient fingers at the hasp of the drawing-room windows. There was murder in her heart.

"The little Jezebel," she muttered. "Was it madness, or what? At last!"

The window flew open and she raced down the garden like a hare.