She kept her own apartments, refusing to come down to her meals, and
Mrs. Fairfax humored this whim by ordering Faynie's meals served in her
rooms.
In vain the old housekeeper expostulated with Faynie, urging her to
come down at least to the drawing-room evenings, as she used to do.
Faynie shook her golden curls.
"It is no longer my home," she would say, with bitter sobs; "I am only
biding my time here--the six months that I am in duty bound to
remain--then I am going away--it does not matter where."
The old housekeeper had tried in vain to coax from the girl the story of
where she had been while away from home.
"That is my secret," Faynie would say, with a burst of bitter tears; "I
shall never divulge it--until the hour I lie dying."
CHAPTER XVII.
EVERY MAN TO HIS TRADE.
After the bogus Lester Armstrong had dispatched his letter of acceptance
to Mrs. Fairfax he braced himself for what would happen next by taking a
deep draught from the silver brandy flask which he kept in his breast
pocket, though he realized that he had need of all his senses for any
emergency.
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