ead he had proven a
perfect lamb. Hamlin crossed his legs and waited, his mind divided in
wonder between what Miss McDonald might want, and the cowardice of the
fellow just driven out. The man was actually afraid--afraid to start a
row. Yet he had got to his feet with that intention; it was only after
he had looked into Hamlin's face and asked his name, that he began to
hedge and draw back. Could he have recognized him? Could Mrs. Dupont
have warned him of danger in his direction? That would seem impossible,
for the woman had not been with him for even a minute since their
conversation. She had given him a swift signal at the door of the dance
hall, but that could scarcely account for his present desire to avoid
trouble. An engagement? Probably with Mrs. Dupont. But what was the
use of speculating? Perhaps when the girl came she would have some light
to throw on these matters. Surely her sudden determination to see him
privately must have connection with this affair.

These thoughts came swiftly, for his period of waiting proved to be but a
short one. He heard the laughter and talk as the merry-makers came into
the hotel from the dance hall, crowding the passage, and thronging in to
where the tables were set. Then a rattle of dishes, and the steady
shuffling of waiters rushing back and forth. Occasionally he could
distinguish a shadow out in the hall, but never changed his motionless
posture, or removed his eyes from the aperture, until she slipped
noiselessly through and stood there panting slightly, her hand clasping
the knob of the door. Apparently in the semi-darkness of the room she
was uncertain of his presence, while her white dress touched by the
outside reflection made her clearly visible.

"It is all right, Miss McDonald," he murmured hastily, arising. "There
is nothing to fear."

"You are here--alone?"

"Yes," smiling in memory. "There were occupants when I first arrived,
but they were persuaded to depart. I had a suspicion you might prefer it
that way."

"Yes," puzzled by his manner, yet softly pushing the door back so as to
exclude the light. "I can see better now. Are--are you sure no one can
overhear? I have something to tell you--something important."

"There is no one else here, yet some one might stumble into this room.
It is not private, you know. We shall be safer on the porch outside.
Will you take my hand, and let me guide you?"

She did so unhesitatingly, but her fin