arrangement!--it came about
through me. But that's not of importance to you."

"It may be. We can't tell. Better let me know as much as possible about
these Smiths. There's Mrs. Ellsworth's Smith, and the Smith you came to
meet----"

"We needn't talk of _him_, anyway!"

There was a hint of anger in the girl's protest; but her resentment was
for the man who had humiliated her by breaking his appointment--_such_ an
appointment!

She hurried on, trying to hide all signs of agitation. "You see, Mrs.
Ellsworth once hoped to have Archdeacon Smith and his wife for friends.
They didn't care for her, but they loved my father--oh, long ago in the
country, where we lived. When he died and I hadn't any money or training
for work, they were nice to Mrs. Ellsworth for my sake--or, rather, for
my father's sake--and persuaded her to take me as her companion. She was
glad to do it to please them; but soon she realized that they didn't mean
to reward her by being intimate.

"Poor woman, I was almost sorry for her disappointment! You see, she's
a snob at heart, and though 'Smith' sounds a common name, both the
Archdeacon and his wife have titled relations. So have I--and that was
another reason for taking me. She adores a title. Doesn't that sound
pitiful? But she has few interests and no real friends, so she's never
given up hope of 'collecting' the Smiths.

"That's why she lets me visit them. And when I happened to mention, for
something to say, that the Archdeacon had an eccentric cousin in America
who was afraid of hotels and even of visiting at their house because of a
fad about burglars, she offered to give him the better of her two spare
rooms whenever he came to England. I never thought he'd accept, but he
did, only he would insist on paying.

"That's the story, if you can call it a story, for Mr. Ruthven Smith
isn't a bit exciting nor interesting. When he appears--generally quite
suddenly--he finds his room ready. He has his breakfast sent up, and
lunches out at his club or somewhere. He mostly dines out, too, but he
has a standing invitation to dine with Mrs. Ellsworth, and we always have
good dinners when he is staying, to be ready in case of the worst."

The man smiled, rather a charming smile, Annesley could not help
noticing.

"In case of the worst!" he repeated. "He must be deadly if his
society bores you more than that of an old lady on whom, I suppose,
you dance attendance morning, noon, and night. Now, my situ