ou to woo her as--as another person waited. Fame is a
shameless hussy, you know."

The young man shook his head.

"No. Fame has jilted me once. I won't give her another chance."

So those who were twain sailed gently into Southampton Docks, resolved
to be one when the gods were willing.

Mary Radford's people were there to meet her, and Ormond went up to
London alone, beginning his short railway journey with a return of the
melancholy that had oppressed him during the first part of his long
voyage. He felt once more alone in the world, now that the bright
presence of his sweetheart was withdrawn, and he was saddened by the
thought that the telegram he had hoped to send to Jimmy Spence,
exultingly announcing his arrival, would never be sent. In a newspaper
he bought at the station, he saw that the African traveller, Sidney
Ormond, was to be received by the Mayor and Corporation of a Midland
town, and presented with the freedom of the city. The traveller was to
lecture on his exploits in the town so honouring him, that day week.
Ormond put down the paper with a sigh, and turned his thoughts to the
girl from whom he had so lately parted. A true sweetheart is a
pleasanter subject for meditation than a false friend.

Mary also saw the announcement in the paper, and anger tightened her
lips and brought additional colour to her cheeks. Seeing how averse her
lover was to taking any action against his former friend, she had
ceased to urge him, but she had quietly made up her own mind to be
herself the goddess of the machine.

On the night the bogus African traveller was to lecture in the Midland
town, Mary Radford was a unit in the very large audience that greeted
him. When he came on the platform she was so amazed at his personal
appearance that she cried out, but fortunately her exclamation was lost
in the applause that greeted the lecturer. The man was the exact
duplicate of her betrothed.

She listened to the lecture in a daze; it seemed to her that even the
tones of the lecturer's voice were those of her lover. She paid little
heed to the matter of his discourse, but allowed her mind to dwell more
on the coming interview, wondering what excuses the fraudulent
traveller would make for his perfidy.

When the lecture was over, and the usual vote of thanks had been
tendered and accepted, Mary Radford still sat there while the rest of
the audience slowly filtered out of the large hall. She rose at last,
nerving herself