"The incantation is on!" he cried, waving his arms in the
air; "the genie is at work. No admittance except on business!
Follow Miss Wilson," he added, clapping both hands on the shoulders
of the prettiest and shyest young lady of the party, with an
irresistible paternal familiarity. "She's your hostess. I'll
honor her drafts to any amount;" and before they were aware of his
purpose or that Carroll was no longer among them, Aladdin had
closed the door, that shut with a spring lock, and was alone with
the young man. He walked quickly to his desk, took up the letter,
and opened it.
His face of dominant, self-satisfied good-humor became set and
stern. Without taking the least notice of Carroll, he rose, and,
stepping to a telegraph instrument at a side table, manipulated
half a dozen ivory knobs with a sudden energy. Then he returned to
the table, and began hurriedly to glance over the memoranda and
indorsements of the files of papers piled upon it. Carroll's quick
eye caught sight of a small packet of letters in a writing of
unmistakable feminine delicacy, and made certain they were the ones
he was in quest of. Without raising his eyes, Mr. Prince asked,
almost rudely,--
"Who else has she told this to?"
"If you refer to the contents of that letter, it was written and
handed to me about three hours ago. It has not been out of my
possession since then."
"Humph! Who's at the casa? There's Buchanan, and Raymond, and
Victor Guitierrez, eh?"
"I think I can say almost positively that Mrs.
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