“Perhaps so—he is my mother’s friend,” said Mamja; “but you have the advantage of us—you can always take to the road, you know.”

The smile with which she had intended to accompany this speech did not come as readily in execution as it had in conception, and she would have given worlds to have re- called her words. But he said, “That’s so,” quietly, and turned away, as if to give her an opportunity to escape. She moved hesitatingly towards the passage and stopped. The sound of the returning voices gave her a sudden courage.


“Guest,” said the young man.

“If we do conclude to stay to dinner as Mr. Prince has said nothing of introducing you to my sister, you must let me have that pleasure.”

He lifted his eyes to hers with a sudden flush. But she had fled.

She reached her party, displaying her torn fiounce as the cause of her delay, and there was a slight quickness in her breathing and her speech which was attributed to the same grave reason. “But, only listen,” said Amita, “wefvo got it all out of the butler and the grooms. It’s such a mmantic story!”

“What is °?” said Mamja, suddenly.

“Why, the private tramps”

“The peripatetic secretary,” suggested Raymond.

“Yes,” continued Amita, “Mr. Prince was so struck with his gratitude to the old Doctor that he hunted him up in San José, and brought him here. Since then Prince has been so interested in him—it appears he was somebody in the States, or has rich relations—that he has been telegraph- ing and making all sorts of inquiries about him, and has even sent out his own lawyer to hunt up everything about him. Are you listening?”


“You seem abstracted.”

“I am hungry.” “W'hy not dine here; it’s an hour earlier than at home.

Aladdin would fall at your feet for the honor. D01”