word from Alice in WonderLand, and although not in the dictionery, is
quite expressive.)

"Yes," I replied, bitterly. "I am old enough to be married off without
my consent, but I am not old enough for a real Ball. It makes me sick."

"I can smuggle him here, if you want to talk to him."

"Smuggle!" I said, with scorn. "There is no need to smuggle him. The
Familey is crazy about him. They are flinging me at him."

"Well, that's nice," he said. "Who'd have thought it! Shall I bring him
to the 'phone?"

"I don't want to talk to him. I hate him."

"Look here," he observed, "if you keep that up, he'll begin to beleive
you. Don't take these little quarrels too hard, Barbara. He's so happy
to-night in the thought that you----"

"Does he live in a Cabinet, or where?"

"In a what? I don't get that word."

"Don't bother. Where shall I send his letter?"

Well, it seemed he had an apartment at the Arcade, and I rang off. It
was after eleven by that time, and by the time I had got into my school
mackintosh and found a heavy veil of mother's and put it on, it was
almost half past.

The house was quiet, and as Patrick had gone, there was no one around in
the lower Hall. I slipped out and closed the door behind me, and
looked for a taxicab, but the veil was so heavy that I hailed our own
limousine, and Smith had drawn up at the curb before I knew him.

"Where to, lady?" he said. "This is a private car, but I'll take you
anywhere in the city for a dollar."

A flush of just indignation rose to my cheek, at the knowledge that
Smith was using our car for a taxicab! And just as I was about to speak
to him severely, and threaten to tell father, I remembered, and walked
away.

"Make it seventy-five cents," he called after me. But I went on. It was
terrable to think that Smith could go on renting our car to all sorts of
people, covered with germs and everything, and that I could never report
it to the Familey.

I got a real taxi at last, and got out at the Arcade, giving the man a
quarter, although ten cents would have been plenty as a tip.

I looked at him, and I felt that he could be trusted.

"This," I said, holding up the money, "is the price of Silence."

But If he was trustworthy he was not subtile, and he said:

"The what, miss?"

"If any one asks if you have driven me here, YOU HAVE NOT" I explained,
in an impressive manner.

He examined the quarter, even striking a match to look at it. Then he
replied: "I