me, Miss Tempest,” he declared. “You are a mystery. You were bright and merry until you knew my name, and then—well, then you suddenly curled into your shell. Really, I confess I can’t make you out!”

One more experienced than he would probably have discerned that a great and staggering blow had fallen upon his newly-found little friend. She was at a loss how to act—or what to say.

Her heart was thumping hard within her. What if he should discover the terrible secret which she alone knew! Fearing lest he should grow suspicious, she was all anxiety to get away—to place him and his memory behind her for ever.

Yet, somehow, he had fascinated her, and she sat there quite unable to leave him. Though the sunshine, the life and gaiety about her were brilliant, the whole earth had, for her, grown dark in one single instant. She hardly knew what she did—or what she said.

“I really must go,” she declared, at last, hitching up her pom from beneath her arm.

“Well, if you must, you must, I suppose, Miss Tempest,” he responded at last, with great reluctance. “I fear you don’t care for my society,” he added, with a sigh.

“How very foolish!” she cried. “Of course, I do—only, as I have explained, I have an engagement which I can’t possibly break. My dinner-dress is a positive rag.”

“Then let us meet later to-day,” he suggested. “This evening—at any time you like,” he urged. “Will you see me again? Do,” he implored.

For some time she made no reply. She was reflecting deeply. At last, with pale face, and striving to preserve a bold front, she replied rather frigidly: “No, really, Mr Remington, I am sorry, very sorry, but I cannot meet you again. I thank you ever so much for saving my little Snookie, but, in our mutual interests, it is far the best that we should not meet again.”

“Why? I really don’t understand you!” he exclaimed, much mystified.

“I am sorry, I repeat, Mr Remington—very sorry indeed—but I can’t meet you again,” she said, in a hard, determined tone. “I do not dare to.”

“Engaged, I suppose—and fear tittle-tattle—eh?” he sniffed.

“No, I’m not engaged,” was her rather haughty response, her cheeks colouring slightly.

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