ll sure
that the greatest wisdom does not exist in occasionally breaking loose!"

Juliet faced him, erect and dignified. She had scented a personal
application in his words, and was determined to stand no nonsense.

"Mr Maplestone, I have been here four days; it seems to me inadvisable
to stay any longer. To-morrow morning I propose to receive a telegram
summoning me home. I should be obliged if you could make it convenient
to be out after eleven o'clock. It would make it easier for me to get
away."

There was consternation in his glance; more than consternation--dismay.

"Go! Why on earth should you go? Is it the office! Do they want you
back at the office? Let _me_ write. Surely if I write and say--"

"As a matter of fact there is _no_ office. It's a mistake. I--I am not
what I seem!" cried Juliet, with a touch of melodrama, born of
desperation. Not another moment could she stand the deception; not
another moment could she masquerade under another woman's name. "I am
_not_ an inquiry agent. Never was. Never will be. It was just--
just--"

"Sit down. Sit down. Take your own time. Tell me all about it."
Antony pushed a deep-cushioned chair towards her, seated himself near at
hand, leaned forward, gazing into her eyes. There was no consternation
on his face this time; no dismay; nothing but happiest relief. "If you
only knew how _thankful_ I am! I hated the thought of such work for
you. Now--tell me!"

And Juliet told him. Told him how, among a party of friends, she had
avowed her yearning for adventure, and had been bidden to hold fast to
the thought, and await an opportunity. All things, she was told, come
in good time to those who wait. And she had waited; through long,
monotonous, uneventful months she had waited, and waited in vain. And
then, suddenly, a chance, an opening--a possibility which must be taken,
or left, while a moment ticked away its course! She told of the dead
girl whose place she had taken, honestly determining to do her best, and
allow no one to suffer through the exchange.

"If it had been work of which I was incapable I should have left at
once. You believe it, don't you? You _do_ believe it?"

Antony seemed to ignore the question as beneath his notice. Something
infinitely more important was occupying his mind.

"Then, what is your real name?"

"Juliet! All that I have told you of my people is true. Everything is
true, but the name and the work. Per