d to be afraid of."

"I'm not afraid of things, and I'm not a bit changed," I said. "You only
want to 'dare' me."

"I want you to go with me. It would be so much nicer than going alone,"
she begged. "Supposing I got ill in a hired cab? I might, you know; but
I _can't_ stay indoors, whatever happens. If we were together it would
be an adventure worth remembering."

"Very well," I said, "I'll go with you, not for the adventure, but
rather than have you make a fuss because I try to keep you in, and
rather than you should go alone."

"Good girl!" exclaimed Lisa, quite pleasant and purring, now that she
had got her way; though if I'd refused she would probably have cried.
She is terrifying when she cries. Great, deep sobs seem almost to tear
her frail little body to pieces. She goes deadly white, and sometimes
ends up by a fit of trembling as if she were in an ague.

"Have you really ordered a motor cab?" I asked.

"Yes," said she. "I rang for a waiter, and sent him down to tell the big
porter at the front door to get me one. Then I gave him five francs, and
said I did not want anybody to know, because I must visit a poor, sick
friend who had written to say she was in great trouble, but wished to
tell no one except me that she'd come to Paris."

"I shouldn't have thought such an elaborate story necessary to a
waiter," I remarked, tossing up my chin a little, for I don't like
Lisa's subterranean ways. But this time she didn't even try to defend
herself.

"Let's get ready at once," she said. "I'm going to put on my long
travelling cloak, to cover up this dress, and wear my black toque, with
a veil. I suppose you'll do the same? Then we can slip out, and down the
'service' stairs. The carriage is to wait for us at the side entrance."

I looked at her, trying to read her secretive little face. "Lisa, are
you planning to go somewhere in particular, do something you want to
'spring' on me when it's too late for me to get out of it?"

"How horrid of you to be so suspicious of me! You _do_ hurt my feelings!
I haven't had an inspiration yet, so I can't make a plan. But it will
come; I know it will. I shall _feel_ where we ought to go, to be in the
midst of an adventure--oh, without being mixed up in it, so don't look
horrified! I told you that something was going to happen, and that I
wanted to be in it. Well, I mean to be, when the inspiration comes."

We put on our dark hats and long travelling cloaks. I pinned on Lisa'