cable service.

Miss Reardon, Smith learned, had never been exposed as an impostor. She
was respected personally, and had attained a certain amount of fame both
in Boston (where she lived) and New York. She had been several times
invited to visit England, but had never been able to accept until now.
She had arrived by the ship and at the time stated. When we met her at
the Savoy, she could not have been more than two hours in London.
Therefore her story seemed to be true in every detail, and what was
more, she had not been met at ship or train by any one.

I simply _hated_ poor dear little Smith. He ought to have nosed out
_something_ against the woman! What are detectives _for_?

"You've been an angel to fight for my happiness," Joyce said. "I adore
you for it. And so does Robert, I know--though he mustn't put such
feelings into words, or even _have_ feelings if he can help it. There's
nothing more to fight about now. The best thing I can pray for is that
Robert may forget our--dream, and that he may be happy in this other
dream--of June."

"And you?" I asked. "What prayer do you say for yourself? Do _you_ pray
to forget?"

"Oh, no!" she answered. "I don't want to forget. I wouldn't forget, if I
could. You see, it wasn't a dream to me. It was--it always will be--the
best thing in my life--the glory of my life. In my heart I shall live it
all over and over again till I die. I don't mind suffering. I've seen so
much pain in the war, and the courage that went with it. I shall have my
roses--not La France; deep red roses they'll be, red as blood, and sharp
with thorns, but sweet as heaven. There!" and her voice changed. "Now
you know, Princess! We'll never speak of this again, because we don't
need to, do we?"

"No--o," I agreed. "You're a grand girl, Joyce, worth two of----But
never mind! And I'll try to make you as happy as I can."

She thanked me for that; she was always thanking me for something. Soon,
however, she broke the news that she must go away. She loved me and her
work, yet she couldn't stop in London; she just couldn't. Not as things
were. If Robert had been turning his back on England she might have
stayed. But his promise to communicate with June daily through Opal
bound him to London. Joyce thought that she might try India. She had
friends there in the Army and in the Civil Service. She might do useful
work as a nurse among the purdah women and their babies, where mortality
was very high, she'd hea