ue.

"Then I'll put it in words of one syllable. Do you mean to ask Miss
Vennor to be your wife?"

"I couldn't, and keep my self-respect."

"Not if you knew she wanted you to?" persisted the small tormentor.

"Oh, I say--that couldn't be, you know," he protested. "I'm nothing more
than a pleasant acquaintance to her, at the very most."

"But if you knew she did?"

"How could I know it?"

"We are not discussing ways and means; answer the question."

Thereat the man, tempted beyond what he could bear, abdicated in favor
of the lover. "If I could be certain of that, Mrs. Burton--if I could be
sure she loves me, nothing on earth should stand in the way of our
happiness. Is that what you wanted me to say?"

The little lady clapped her hands enthusiastically. "I thought I could
find the joint in your armor, after awhile. Now you may go; I want to be
by myself and think. Good-night."

Brockway took the summary dismissal good-naturedly, and, as the train
was just then slowing into a station, he ran out to drop off and catch
the upcoming hand-rail of the Tadmor.

XI

AN ARRIVAL IN TRANSIT

When Gertrude bade Brockway good-night, she changed places for the
moment with a naughty child on its way to face the consequences of a
misbehavior, entering the private car with a childish consciousness of
wrong-doing fighting for place with a rather militant determination to
meet reproof with womanly indifference. Much to her relief, she found
her father alone, and there was no distinguishable note of displeasure
in his greeting.

"Well, Gertrude, did you enjoy your little diversion? Sit down and tell
me about it. How does the cab compare with the sitting-room of a private
car?"

The greeting was misleading, but she saw fit to regard it as merely the
handshaking which precedes a battle royal.

"I enjoyed it much," she answered, quietly. "It was very exciting; and
very interesting, too."

"Ah; I presume so. And your escort took good care of you--made you quite
comfortable, I suppose."

"Yes."

Mr. Vennor leaned back in his chair and regarded her gravely through the
swirls of blue smoke curling upward from his cigar. "Didn't it strike
you as being rather--ah--a girlish thing for you to do? in the night,
you know, and with a comparative stranger?"

Gertrude thought the battle was about to open, and began to throw up
hasty fortifications. "Mr. Brockway is not a stranger; you may remember
that we became quite w