Louise lay dismally back upon the cushions, sobbing hysterically into
her dripping handkerchief. The door of her prison at last opened and a
light shone in upon her.

"Here we are, miss," said the man in uniform, still in quiet, respectful
tones. "Shall I assist you to alight?"

She started up eagerly, her courage returning with a bound. Stepping
unassisted to the ground she looked around her in bewilderment.

The car stood before the entrance to a modest country house. There was a
light in the hall and another upon the broad porch. Around the house a
mass of trees and shrubbery loomed dark and forbidding.

"Where am I?" demanded Louise, drawing back haughtily as the man
extended a hand toward her.

"At your destination, miss," was the answer. "Will you please enter?"

"No! Not until I have an explanation of this--this--singular,
high-handed proceeding," she replied, firmly.

Then she glanced at the house. The hall door had opened and a woman
stood peering anxiously at the scene outside.

With sudden resolve Louise sprang up the steps and approached her. Any
woman, she felt, in this emergency, was a welcome refuge.

"Who are you?" she asked eagerly, "and why have I been brought here?"