half-open doors of the two messengers waiting stolidly in
the hall. Waiting for answers! Answers to such communications! She made
a dash for the table where were pens and ink and on one sheet scrawled:

"Certainly. Bring him," appending her initials; on the other the word
"Impossible," and her full name. Then she hurried the letters into
Shima's hands, lest her courage should fail her--lest she should regret
her choice.

"Anywhere, at any time, to-night," she repeated softly. Why, the man
must be mad! Yet she permitted herself a moment of imagining what might
have been if her answers had been reversed.

But no, she dared not meet Kerr's impetuous attacks yet. First she must
get at Harry. And how was that to be managed if he insisted on
surrounding himself with "a jolly little party?"

She found a moment that evening in which to ask him to walk out to the
Presidio with her the next morning. But he was going to Burlingame on
the early train. He was woefully sorry. It was ages since he had had a
moment with her alone, but at least he would see her that evening. She
had not forgotten? They were going to that dinner--and then the
reception afterward? Her suspicion that he was deliberately dodging
wavered before his boyish, cheerful, unconscious face. And yet,
following on the heels of his tendency to question and coerce her, this
reticence was amazing. The next day would be lost with Harry beyond
reach--twelve hours while Kerr was at the mercy of chance, and she was
at the mercy of Kerr.

His tactics did not leave her breathing space. She felt as the lilies
wavering just beyond his reach. She remembered his ingenuity. She
thought of the blows of his cane. Lucky for her she was not rooted like
the lilies! The only safety was in keeping beyond his reach.

Yet when his card was brought up to her the next morning she looked at
the printed name as wistfully as if it had been his face. It cost an
effort to send down the cold fiction that she was not at home, and she
could not deny herself the consolation of leaning on the baluster of the
second landing, and listening for his step in the hall below. But there
was no movement. Could it be possible he was waiting for her to come in?
Hush! That was the drawing-room door. But instead of Kerr, Shima
emerged. He was heading for the stair with his little silver tray and
upon it--a note. Oh, impudence! How dared he give her the lie, by the
hand of her own butler! She stood her ground