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a language you don’t understand. How could you? You’ll never have to—you’ll never know what it’s like to bump up against a rather hard world with nobody to pick you up when you fall from the shock. I’m glad of that. It’s much worse for a girl, anyhow—and there are such lots of girls who have to do it.”

The blue eyes were wide with a kind of horror; “It’s not my fault,” she thought, but she held herself from saying it aloud. Before there was any need for her to answer, the daughter of the house came up and seated herself opposite them. She was a cheerful girl with a roving eye, that made it hard to talk to her with any concentration; she always looked as if she were wondering which guest she ought to speak to next.

“Is Mr. St. Croix telling you thrilling stories, Pamela?” she said. “You look rather as if you had just heard of a grizzly bear that ate up a whole family.”

“Something like that,” said Tony.

“Really? How very dreadful! Did you kill it?”

Tony shook his head. “Too much for me,” he said, and then hastily, for he saw an unusual gleam of interest in her eye, and feared tangling questions, “Lady Trent and I have been talking about—names.”

“That doesn’t sound nearly so entertaining. I’m sure she wishes you had gone on telling your adventures.”

“Yes, I think I like adventures better,” said Pamela, in her demurest voice. Tony glanced quickly at the other, to see if she noticed any undercurrent, but he need not have worried; her gaze was far afield.

“I see Archie Brackenridge, and I know he’s dying to come over here,” she said. “I mustn’t be selfish—I’ll go and leave him a place.”

Archie did come, and after that the conversation was pleasant and general, and Tony soon got up and left the