ters than my own, from time to time, disguised perhaps, in such a
way that even you would not recognize me. Under those circumstances I
will suggest a password--one that will not be known to anyone else.
Should occasion arise in which I desire to acquaint you with my
identity, without making it known to others, I will merely repeat the
words--twenty-eight days, or twenty-seven or six or five, as the case
may be, on that particular day, and you will know that it is I, and act
accordingly. Is that perfectly clear?"

"Perfectly, Mr. Duvall."

"Very well. Then we will leave further details until to-morrow." He
shook hands with his caller, escorted her to her automobile, then
returned to the library and began a careful study of the two notes which
Mrs. Morton had left with him. Here Grace found him, half an hour later.

"Well," she said, coming up to him with a smile. "Shall I begin to pack
our things?"

Duvall put his arm about her.

"Yes, dear," he said. "We'll leave on the sleeper to-night. You can get
Mrs. Preston to come and take charge of the house while we are gone. It
may be two weeks. That is, if you want to go along."

"Want to go along? Why, Richard, I'm just dying for a trip to New York.
I haven't been there since before Christmas, as you know, and I've got
to get a spring outfit. Of course I'm going." She went gayly toward the
hall stairs.

"Then you must be ready right after lunch," he called after her.

"But why so soon, if we are taking the sleeper?"

"Because we are going up to town this afternoon and see a few moving
pictures."

"Moving pictures?" Grace paused at the door, an expression of the utmost
astonishment upon her face. "Why, Dick, you never go to moving pictures.
You've always said they didn't interest you."

"We're going, just the same."

"What's come over you?" Grace asked.

"Nothing. I'm curious to see some of them, that's all. Never too old to
learn, you know. If I am not mistaken, I saw a new feature film
advertised in the newspaper this morning." He took a paper from the desk
and glanced through it. "Here it is. Ruth Morton, in _The Miser's
Daughter_. Have you seen it?"

"No. But I've seen Miss Morton often--in pictures, I mean. She's a
lovely creature, and a splendid actress, too."

"Then this film ought to be a good one, don't you think?"

Grace burst into a rippling laugh.

"You're getting positively human, Richard," she exclaimed. "Here I've
been telling you for mont