e."

Seated in the train, drawing near to her destination, Juliet found
herself repeating the words over and over, like a child rehearsing a
lesson. "Alice White," cried the mental voice, "Alice White," and
again, "Alice White. It's my name! I must answer to it. I must give
it when asked. I am Alice White, professional _something_--I don't know
what. I am obeying a telephone summons meant for someone else, and, if
I don't want to be discovered within five minutes of my arrival, I must
keep my wits about me, and think seventeen times at least before I utter
a word. I'm to be met at the station and treated as one of the family,
and to remember that appearance is a strong point, and wear my best
clothes..." She knitted her brows, and for the hundredth time
endeavoured to reach a solution of the mystery. "I can't be a
sick-nurse; the clothes settle that. If it had been that, I should have
had to confess at once. But in other capacities I'm intelligent, I'm
experienced, I'm willing. I'm _more_ than willing--I'm _eager_!
There's no reason why I should not do as well as the real Alice. After
all, it's quite a usual thing to take up work under a professional name.
Writers do it, artists, actors; there can be no harm in using the poor
girl's name, if I do my best with her work."

The train drew up at the station, a small, flowery country station, and,
opening the door, Juliet stepped lightly to the ground. Her carriage
had been at the end of the train, and the length of platform stretched
before her. A glance showed a solitary porter approaching the luggage
van; one commanding figure of an unusually big man, in a tweed
knickerbocker suit; and, farther off still, by the door of the
booking-office, two ladies in navy-blue costumes, apparently awaiting
the arrival of friends. At the extreme end of the train another door
opened, and an elderly man carrying a bag made a heavy descent to the
platform. The ladies stood motionless; the man in tweeds hurried
towards where Juliet stood. She looked at him anxiously, met the glance
of a pair of level brown eyes, and was instantly conscious of two things
concerning his state of mind. He was embarrassed; he was also agreeably
relieved. The next moment he was facing her, and was holding out his
hand.

"Miss White?"

"Yes."

"I am Antony Maplestone."

"Oh!"

Juliet was conscious that her own sensations exactly duplicated those of
her companion. She was embarrassed