was twin to his employer. It would be a fortunate moment to present his card to these ladies! For the first time in his life he found his hands in his way. 

 "The situation is very peculiar—very," stammered Miss Martha nervously, "and I'm very sorry, very sorry indeed that you were listening." 

 "Oh, so am I!" ejaculated the girl, the angry tenseness of her face changing and her voice breaking as she threw up her hands in a despairing gesture. The pathos of the black figure struck through Dunham's mortification. 

 "I wouldn't have hurt your feelings for anything," pursued Miss Martha earnestly. 

 "Wouldn't you?" 

 "No; and I wish you would believe it and not look at me so strangely. I never had hysterics in my life, but I feel as if I might have them right off, if you don't stop." 

 The young girl had regained her self-control. "It might be the best ending to the interview," she said, "for I could leave you then to—to the trusted friend. I don't know what to do now." She clasped her hands over her face for a second, then dropped them. 

 "She's dreadfully theatrical, dreadfully," thought Miss Lacey. 

 "She is broken-hearted," thought Dunham; and pulling himself together he found his voice. 

 "My name is Dunham, Miss Lacey," he said, meeting the blue eyes where the fire had burned out, showing the face so white, so young. "This is in the day's work for me, and I'm sorry. I am in Judge Trent's office, and he sent me here with your aunt to represent him." 

 "My aunt saved a lot of time," rejoined the girl slowly, speaking low. "She represented them both while I stood there behind the curtain." Her hands pressed together, and she looked again from one to the other. 

 "There isn't anything for you to stay for now, is there?" she added, after a painful silence. 

 "Why, of course there is!" exclaimed Miss Martha. "We haven't made any plan at all." 

 "What plan had you thought of making?" 

 Miss Martha cleared her throat and looked up at Dunham. 

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