She did not mind dying in a good cause; she could do it but once.

And with Sir Norman despising her, as she felt he must do, when he found her run away, she rather liked the idea than otherwise.
Mentally, she bade adieu to all her friends before beginning to prepare for her melancholy fate--to her handsome lover, to his gallant friend Ormiston, to her poor nurse, Prudence, and to her mysterious visitor, La Masque.
La Masque! Ah! that name awoke a new chord of recollection--the casket, she had it with her yet.

Instantly, everything was forgotten but it and its contents; and she placed a chair directly under the lamp, drew it out, and looked at it.

It was a pretty little bijou itself, with its polished ivory surface, and shining clasps of silver.

But the inside had far more interest for her than the outside, and she fitted the key and unlocked it with a trembling hand.