n he saw that the African traveller Sidney
Ormond was to be received by the mayor and corporation of a midland
town and presented with the freedom of the city. The traveller was to
lecture on his exploits in the town so honoring him, that day week.
Ormond put down the paper with a sigh, and turned his thoughts to the
girl from whom he had so lately parted. A true sweetheart is a
pleasanter subject for meditation than a false friend.

Mary also saw the announcement in the paper, and anger tightened her
lips and brought additional color to her cheeks. Seeing how adverse
her lover was to taking any action against his former friend, she had
ceased to urge him, but she had quietly made up her own mind to be
herself the goddess of the machine.

On the night the bogus African traveller was to lecture in the midland
town, Mary Radford was a unit in the very large audience that greeted
him. When he came on the platform she was so amazed at his personal
appearance that she cried out, but fortunately her exclamation was
lost in the applause that greeted the lecturer. The man was the exact
duplicate of her betrothed. She listened to the lecture in a daze; it
seemed to her that even the tones of the lecturer's voice were those
of her lover. She paid little heed to the matter of his discourse, but
allowed her mind to dwell more on the coming interview, wondering what
excuses the fraudulent traveller would make for his perfidy. When the
lecture was over, and the usual vote of thanks had been tendered and
accepted, Mary Radford still sat there while the rest of the audience
slowly filtered out of the large hall. She rose at last, nerving
herself for the coming meeting, and went to the side door, where she
told the man on duty that she wished to see the lecturer. The man said
that it was impossible for Mr. Ormond to see any one at that moment;
there was to be a big dinner, and he was to meet the mayor and
corporation; an address was to be presented, and so the lecturer had
said that he could see no one.

"Will you take a note to him if I write it?" asked the girl.

"I will send it in to him, but it's no use--he won't see you. He
refused to see even the reporters," said the doorkeeper, as if that
were final, and a man who would deny himself to the reporters would
not admit royalty itself.

Mary wrote on a slip of paper the words, "The affianced wife of the
real Sidney Ormond would like to see you for a few moments," and this
brief