th her corresponding secretary, a spinster of acid
maturity, and discharged her; and would we please look round for
somebody to replace Miss. Matring. Do you see?"

"You mean," Sally faltered, dumfounded--"you can't mean you'll
recommend _me_ for the position?"

"I'll do more. I'll see that you get it; I'll take you with me
to-night, and by to-morrow noon you'll be engaged. But you must
understand we're giving you the chance solely that you may serve us as
well as Aunt Abby, by keeping your eyes and ears wide open and
reporting to us in strictest confidence and secrecy anything that
doesn't look right to you."

"But--but I--but how--why do you think you can trust me?" the
girl stammered. "Knowing what you do--"

"That's just the point. Don't you see'? We can trust you because you
won't dare betray us."

"But--but after I've stolen--"

"Don't say it!" Savage cut in. "You stole nothing, if you please; you
merely anticipated a reward for a service not yet rendered."

"But . . . Oh, it's kind of you, but don't you see it's impossible?"

"Nothing is impossible except your refusal," said Mrs. Standish. "Do
be sensible, my dear, and realise that we--that I intend you shall
have this chance. What can you possibly find to object to? The deceit?
Surely an innocent deception, practised upon a dear old lady for her
own good!"

"Deceit," Mr. Savage propounded very sagely, "is like any other sin,
it's only sinful when it is. That's elementary sophistry, but I
invented it, and I'm strong for it. Besides, we've got just twenty
minutes now to get aboard the Owl--and I've got to beg, borrow, or buy
transportation on it, because there wasn't a room left but the two I
bought for you and me--and now Adele will have to have one of the
rooms--"

"But I've nothing to wear but these things!" "Don't worry about that,"
Mrs. Standish reassured her. "I've got nine trunks on the way--and
you unquestionably fill my things out like another perfect
figure."

"But how will you explain? Who am I to be?
You can't introduce me as a shop-girl out of work whom you caught
stealing your clothes."

"_La nuit porte conseil_," Mr. Savage announced sagely, and with what
was no doubt an excellent accent. "Let Adele sleep on it, and if she
doesn't come through in the morning with a good, old-fashioned, all
wool, yard-wide lie that will blanket every possible contingency, I
don't know my little sister."

"An elder brother, let me tell you, Miss Man