it lifted sharply, flame-dyed--her lips
tremulous, her eyes shining like sapphire stars. "Oh!" she gasped, and
how I envied the little hand she pressed against her waist; but the
windows--dash the windows! "That's--that's _it_--Frances--just that
much! But, do you know, I don't--don't believe you really know my full
name. I remember now several th--" She bent toward me witchingly, her
wide blue eyes challenging my candor. "_Honestly_, now--_do_--you?"

So it was _that_ thought that was tickling her! Well, by Jove, I had her
there, for I had heard the judge mention her name in full. I would
surprise her!

"Oh, _don't_ I?" I exclaimed, winking as I polished my glass. "Well, how
about Frances Leslie Billings?" I let her have it slowly, distinctly,
and with yet a note of triumph I could not altogether hide. And then
remorseful for her amazed expression, I explained frankly: "Got it from
your father this morning, don't you know, during our long talk about you
in the library."

"Wh--"

Then she swallowed and her face fell perfectly blank. By Jove, I could
have kicked myself for a jolly ass for breaking it to her so raw! Of
course, she would know that if her father talked of her, it would be
nothing for me to hear that was true or kind--nothing she could wish
might be said to the man she loved.

I hastened to reassure her:

"But I don't believe a dashed word of anything he said about you"--I
spoke hotly--"and I don't care a jolly hang for what the others said,
either--so there you are!"

"Oh, you _don't_?" Could tell how I had touched her by her expression,
don't you know; and she fell to looking at me the queerest way. "And
would you mind telling me who the 'others' are?"

I eyed her gloomily, sympathetically. As _if_ she didn't know already!

"Well--oh, dash it, my mind has been filled with--er--just anything!" I
began cautiously.

"_I_ know,"--she murmured it as if to herself--"one can _see_ that!" And
she bit her lip.

"In the first place, you know"--and there I pulled up. No, dash it, I
wasn't going to say a jolly word about poor Jack--no, _sir_! But then,
about the other one--well, _she_ was just a treacherous snake in the
what's-its-name, and she ought to be exposed. By Jove, she should be!

"It's the frump, you know," I said indignantly.

"The--the _what_?"

Her pretty teeth flashed like the keyboards of a tiny organ--you could
even hear a little gurgly, musical quiver somewhere behind. And then I
re