been awakened to a doubting recognition.

Now, many little circumstances recurred to her; a strangeness in
Dick's manner when the new manager was alluded to, the fact that her
rescuer on that October night had been driving a racing car and had
worn a racing costume; and lastly, when Bailey spoke of "Darling"
Lestrange there had flashed across her mind the mechanician's
ridiculous answer to the request to aid her chauffeur in changing a
tire: "I'll do it for you, Darling." And listening to that dominant
voice in the next room, she slowly grew crimson before a vision of
herself in the middle of a country road, appealing to a stranger for
succor, like the heroine of melodramatic fiction. Decidedly, she
would never see Lestrange, never let him discover Miss Ffrench.

"I will go," she reiterated, rising impetuously.

The glass-set door opened with unwarning abruptness.

"I'll see Mr. Bailey," declared some one. "He'll know."

Helpless, Emily stood still, and straightway found herself looking
directly into Lestrange's gray eyes as he halted on the threshold.

It was Bailey who upheld the moment, all unconsciously.

"Come in," he invited heartily. "Miss Ffrench, this is our manager,
Mr. Lestrange; the man who's going to double our sales this year."

Emily moved, then straightened herself proudly, lifting her small
head. Lestrange had recognized her, she felt; the call was to
courage, not flight.

"I think I have already met Mr. Lestrange," she said composedly. "I am
pleased to meet him again."

"Met him!" cried Bailey. "Met him? Why--"

Neither heeded him. A gleaming surprise and warmth lit Lestrange's
always brilliant face.

"Thank you," he answered her. "You are more than good to recall me,
Miss Ffrench. I owe an apology for breaking in this way, but I fancied
Mr. Bailey alone--and he spoils me."

"It is nothing; I was about to go." She turned to give Bailey her
hand, smiling involuntarily in her relief. With a glance, an
inflection, Lestrange had stripped their former meeting of its
embarrassment and unconventionality, how, she neither analyzed nor
cared.

"Good morning," said Bailey. "Shall I take you through, or--"

But Lestrange was already holding open the door, with a bright
unconcern as to his workmanlike costume which impressed Emily
pleasantly. She wondered if Dick would have borne the situation as
well, in the impossible event of his being found at work.

The two walked together down an aisle