really needs a secretary I think I can arrange to get one for him. Do
you remember Mary Davis? Her mother was an Ashton--a very good family.
But unfortunate. The girls have had to look out for themselves rather.
Mary took a course. She could be a secretary, I'm sure. Benis could
always correct things afterward. And she is not too young. Just about
the right age, I should think. They used to know each other. But you
know what Benis is. He simply doesn't--your cold is quite distressing,
Doctor. Do take a troche."

The doctor took one.

"Of course Benis may object to a lady secretary--"

"By Jove," said Rogers as if struck with a brilliant idea. "Perhaps his
secretary is a lady!"

"How do you mean--a lady! Don't be absurd, Doctor. You said yourself
there was no proper hotel. Benis is discreet. I'll say that for him."

The doctor's brilliance deserted him. He twiddled his thumbs. But
although Aunt Caroline's repudiation of his suggestion had been
unhesitating there was a gleam of new uneasiness in her eye. She said
no more. It was indeed quite half an hour before she remarked
explosively.

"Unless it were an Indian!"

Her companion turned from the scenery in pained surprise.

"An Indian what?" he asked blankly.

"An Indian secretary--a female one."

"Nonsense. Indians aren't secretaries."

But Aunt Caroline had "had a feeling." "It was your-self who suggested
that she might be a girl," she declared stubbornly, "and if she is a
girl, she must be an Indian. Indians are different--look at Pullman
porters."

The doctor gasped.

"Even I don't mind a Pullman porter," finished Aunt Caroline grandly.

"That's very nice," the doctor struggled to adjust him-self. "But
Pullman porters are not Indians, and even if they were I can't quite
see how it affects Benis and his lady secretary."

"The principle," said Aunt Caroline, "is the same."

Rogers wondered if his brain were going. At any rate he felt that he
needed a smoke. Aunt Caroline did not like smoke, so comparative
privacy was assured. Also, a good smoke might show him a way out of his
difficulty.

It didn't. At the end of the second cigar the cold fact, imparted by
the clerk in the steamship office, that Professor Spence and wife had
preceded them upon this very boat, was still a cold fact and nothing
more. The long letter from the bridegroom which would have made things
plain had passed him on his trip across the continent and was even now
lying, with o