not think of another question to ask, so,
fingering his hat in awkward fashion, turned slowly as if to leave, his
errand quite forgotten.

Joyce felt the chill that had come over him, but could not see how to
dispel it. There seemed nothing to say, though there had been a thousand
things yesterday. How stupid she must seem!

"I--I'm expecting Lucy," she brought out finally, catching at this straw
of a subject gladly. "I wonder what she can want to see me about so
particularly."

"Did you tell her she was to be subp[oe]naed as witness for the
prosecution?" he asked, trying to be business-like.

"No, I didn't. I'm afraid it will trouble her greatly."

"Doubtless." His manner dropped into listlessness, and by slow stages he
now reached the door. He would have been out of it in a second when a
quick tap on the other, which opened into a side corridor, was followed
by the entrance of Camille, with her brother in tow.

"Are you up at last?" she cried gaily. "We've been waiting hours for
you--oh, good morning, Mr. Dalton."

That gentleman bowed stiffly from the doorway, and Joyce with an effort,
drew herself together.

"Good morning, Camille! Leon, this is Mr. Dalton, of whom you have heard
so much in my letters. You will scarcely need to scrape acquaintance.
What's on the docket this morning, Gypsy?"

Leon had advanced smilingly, with extended hand, prepared to fully like
the man who had been such an able assistant to Joyce. But the sudden
consciousness that it was only as her employee that this young officer
had thought of him, and Joyce's own outspoken declaration as to the
correspondence between them, stung George Dalton to the quick.

He was not versed in the ways of society, and this insecurity left him
helpless how to act in such an emergency. To ignore it never occurred to
him; he could only resent it. He bowed too low to see Leon's extended
hand, and saying frostily, "I am honored to meet you, sir!" turned on
his heel and stalked out with no further word.

"The coolness of him!" cried Camille, indignantly, while her brother's
dark eyes turned astonishedly from one to the other.

"Was I to blame? What ailed him anyhow?" he asked quickly.

"Just a lack of good manners," returned Camille in a disgusted tone.
"One never knows where such people will break out next."

Joyce felt something flare up so hotly within her that she had to turn
away, so that neither might notice her deep chagrin. She changed the
s