aid Kate. "The book has made a big
sensation. Do you know who the hero is?"

"Who?" he asked with an air of the greatest innocence.

"Why, no less a personage than your father--John Burkett Ryder
himself! Everybody says it's he--the press and everybody that's
read it. He says so himself."

"Really?" he exclaimed with well-simulated surprise. "I must read
it."

"It has made a strong impression on Mr. Ryder," chimed in Mr.
Bagley. "I never knew him to be so interested in a book before.
He's trying his best to find out who the author is. It's a jolly
well written book and raps you American millionaires jolly
well--what?"

"Whoever wrote the book," interrupted Kate, "is somebody who knows
Mr. Ryder exceedingly well. There are things in it that an
outsider could not possibly know."

"Phew!" Jefferson whistled softly to himself. He was treading
dangerous ground. To conceal his embarrassment, he rose.

"If you'll excuse me, I'll go and pay my filial respects upstairs.
I'll see you again," He gave Kate a friendly nod, and without even
glancing at Mr. Bagley left the room.

The couple stood in silence for a few moments after he
disappeared. Then Kate went to the door and listened to his
retreating footsteps. When she was sure that he was out of earshot
she turned on Mr. Bagley indignantly.

"You see what you expose me to. Jefferson thinks this was a
rendezvous."

"Well, it was to a certain extent," replied the secretary
unabashed. "Didn't you ask me to see you here?"

"Yes," said Kate, taking a letter from her bosom, "I wanted to ask
you what this means?"

"My dear Miss Roberts--Kate--I"--stammered the secretary.

"How dare you address me in this manner when you know I and Mr.
Ryder are engaged?"

No one knew better than Kate that this was not true, but she said
it partly out of vanity, partly out of a desire to draw out this
Englishman who made such bold love to her.

"Miss Roberts," replied Mr. Bagley loftily, "in that note I
expressed my admiration--my love for you. Your engagement to Mr.
Jefferson Ryder is, to say the least, a most uncertain fact."
There was a tinge of sarcasm in his voice that did not escape
Kate.

"You must not judge from appearances," she answered, trying to
keep up the outward show of indignation which inwardly she did not
feel. "Jeff and I may hide a passion that burns like a volcano.
All lovers are not demonstrative, you know."

The absurdity of this description as applied to