made to be used for buttons."

"All similar to this?"

"Similar but not identical. This one has Shakespeare's head. The others
represent Romeo and Juliet."

Mr. Barnes determined upon a bold stroke. Taking the button from his
pocket, and handing it to Emily, he said quietly:

"Here is a cameo of Juliet. Perhaps it may interest you?"

"Why this is extraordinary! It is one of my set!"

"One of yours, why have you lost one? How many did you have?"

"There were seven including this one of Shakespeare. The other six----"
Here she stopped and colored deeply.

"Miss Remsen, you think that is one of the original set. If so of course
it is yours, and I should be too glad to restore it to you. But have you
lost one?"

"Lost one? No----that is, I don't know." She seemed much confused, and
looked intently at the button. Suddenly her whole expression changed,
and with her self possession fully restored she startled Mr. Barnes by
saying, "I am mistaken. This is not one of the original set. Yet it is
very similar."

Mr. Barnes did not know what to think. Did she divine that there might
be some danger in admitting that there was a seventh button still? Had
that matchless schemer Mitchel sent her a note warning her to say that
there were but seven in the original set? He could not decide at once,
but hazarded one more stroke.

"Miss Remsen, I have seen your portrait, and it struck me that that
button is a copy of it. What do you think?"

The girl once more became confused and stammered.

"I don't know," then suddenly, and with complete composure again, "Yes,
I think you are right. This is a copy from my picture. The portrait was
made last summer, and afterwards I allowed the artist to exhibit it. I
think photographs were made from it, and possibly some cameo cutter has
used it for his work."

This was ingenious, but not satisfactory to Mr. Barnes, for he knew that
it was far from probable that another gem-cutter should have used the
picture, and then have called it Juliet. Beside it would have been too
great a coincidence to make a button of it. He decided therefore that
the girl was doing the best she could to invent a plausible explanation
to a question, which Mr. Mitchel himself had simply refused to answer.
Not wishing to arouse any suspicion in her mind that he doubted her
word, he replied quickly:

"That is very likely, and surely he could not have chosen a better face
for his subject."

"Mr. Barnes," said Emi