lem of making the mysterious journey without her mother's
knowledge bothered her not at all. As in the case of most
apartment-house families, she and her mother really saw very little of
each other, especially since she had become a "young lady." Mrs. Strong
went constantly to lectures, to luncheons, to bridge parties, to
matinees with her own particular friends. Jane's engagements were with
another set entirely, school friends most of them, whose parents and
hers hardly knew each other. Both she and her mother habitually
breakfasted in bed, generally at different hours, and seldom lunched
together. At dinner, when Mr. Strong was present, there were no
intimacies between mother and daughter. The only times they really saw
each other for protracted periods were when they happened to go
shopping, or go to the dressmaker's together, and then the subject
always uppermost in the minds of both of them was the all-important and
absorbing topic of clothes. Occasionally, Jane poured at one of her
mother's more formal functions, but for the most part the time of each
was taken up in a mad, senseless hunt for amusement.

Suddenly every thought was driven from Jane's head. Her face went white,
and with difficulty she managed to suppress an alarmed cry.

"What is it, daughter?" asked her mother, noting her perturbation. "Are
you feeling ill?"

"A touch of neuralgia," she managed to answer.

"Too many late hours," warned Mrs. Starrett reprovingly.

"I'm afraid so," said Mrs. Strong. "As soon as I've paid my check we'll
go."

"I'm perfectly all right now," said Jane, controlling herself with
effort, though her face was still white.

The danger that she had feared had passed for the present at least.
Glancing toward the entrance a moment before she had been terrified to
see entering the black-mustached man who had accosted her a few moments
before. Her one thought now had been that he had followed her here, and
in a panic she was wondering how she should make explanations if he came
up to their table and spoke. To her great relief he gave no intimation
of having seen her, but settled himself into a chair near the door where
he was half hidden from her by a great palm. Furtively she watched him,
trying to divine his intention in having followed her there. Respectable
enough though he was in appearance and garb, he did not seem in the
least like the sort of man likely to be found at tea-time in an
exclusive hotel. As she studied