a judge," he promised.

"You know I shall have to earn my own living. We have really very
little money and we must, both of us, do something. Now I have been
trying to do in earnest what I have done for my own pleasure all my
life. Do you know what that is?"

"I think I can guess," he answered, smiling.

"Yes, I told you once--writing children's fairy stories. Now I don't
want you to be bothered about it, but I do wish you could give me an
idea where to send them."

"You have some written?"

She smiled.

"I have two in that little parcel there."

He broke the string and took one out. It was very neatly typewritten,
and a quick glance down the page pleased him.

"Who typed it for you?" he asked.

"Did it myself," she answered. "I learnt shorthand, you know, years
ago, and I bought a typewriter last week. I thought if nothing else
turned up, I might earn a little that way."

"You are certainly not one of the helpless sort of young women," he
said. "Will you let me have the stories for a few days?"

"Will it bother you?" she asked wistfully.

"Well, I don't think so," he assured her. "I won't let it."

Drexley, a little gaunt and pale, but more carefully dressed than usual
in evening clothes, passed their table, looking for a vacant seat.
Douglas touched his arm.

"Sit here, Drexley," he said. "We're off in a minute, and then you can
have the whole table."

Drexley thanked him and surrendered his hat and coat to the waiter.
Douglas leaned across to Cicely.

"Cicely," he said, "let me introduce Mr. Drexley to you. Mr.
Drexley--Miss Strong. Mr. Drexley will probably be my first victim on
your behalf."

Cicely blushed and looked timidly up at the tall, bearded man, who was
regarding her with some interest. He smiled kindly and held out his
hand.

"I am very pleased to know you, Miss Strong," he said. "May I ask in
what way I am to suffer on your behalf?"

"You have the misfortune, sir," Douglas said, "to be the editor of a
popular magazine, and you are consequently never safe from the literary
aspirant. I am one, Miss Strong is another."

"Oh, Mr. Drexley," she exclaimed, in some confusion, "please don't
listen to him. I have never tried to do anything except children's
fairy stories, and I'm sure they're not half good enough for the _Ibex_.
I brought Douglas two to look at, but I'm not sure that they're any good
at all. I meant to offer them to a children's paper."

"Nevertheless, if you will al