s in Miss Ponsonby. In
two more minutes they were both safe in our room.

Then Jerry threw off Miss Ponsonby's wraps and stepped back. I know I
stared until my eyes stuck out of my head. Was that Miss
Ponsonby--that!

The black lace dress, with the pinkish sheen of its slip beneath,
suited her slim shape to perfection and clung around her in lovely,
filmy curves that made her look willowy and girlish. It was
high-necked, just cut away slightly at the throat, and had great,
loose, hanging frilly sleeves of lace. Jerry had shaken out her hair
and piled it high on her head in satiny twists and loops, with a
pompadour such as Miss Ponsonby could never have thought about. It
suited her tremendously and seemed to alter the whole character of her
face, giving verve and piquancy to her delicate little features. The
excitement had flushed her cheeks into positive pinkness and her eyes
were starry. The roses were pinned on her shoulder. Miss Ponsonby, as
she stood there, was a pretty woman, with fifteen apparent birthdays
the less.

"Oh, Alicia, you look just lovely!" I gasped. The name slipped out
quite naturally. I never thought about it at all.

"My dear Elizabeth," she said, "it's like a dream of lost youth."

We got Jerry ready and then we started for the Hubbards', out by our
back door and through our neighbour-on-the-left's lane to avoid all
observation. Miss Ponsonby was breathless with terror. She was sure
every footstep she heard behind her was her father's in pursuit. She
almost fainted on the spot when a belated man came tearing along the
street. Jerry and I breathed a sigh of devout thanksgiving when we
found ourselves safely in the Hubbard parlour.

We were early, but Stephen Shaw was there before us. He came up to us
at once, and just then Miss Ponsonby turned around.

"Alicia!" he said.

"How do you do, Stephen?" she said tremulously.

And there he was looking down at her with an expression on his face
that none of the Glenboro girls he had been calling on had ever seen.
Jerry and I just simply melted away. We can see through grindstones
when there are holes in them!

We went out and sat down on the stairs.

"There's a mystery here," said Jerry, "but Miss Ponsonby shall explain
it to us before we let her climb up that acacia tree tonight. Now that
I come to think of it, the first night he called he asked me about
her. Wanted to know if her father were the same old blustering tyrant
he always was, an