trying very hard to gather the proofs."

"_We?_"

"I'm a very little wheel in the machinery of the secret service."

"I _knew_," said Barbara, "the moment I saw you that you weren't _only_
a locksmith or a carpenter. Does Mr. Blizzard know what you are?"

"He can't prove it, unless you tell him."

"I sha'n't do that."

"How often will he have to pose for you?"

"Heaven only knows. But I think"--and she looked the young man in the
face, and smiled, for his face had charmed her--"I think that if ever I
finish with Mr. Blizzard, I shall ask you to be my next model."

The admiration with which the young man regarded Barbara was no less
frankly and openly expressed than was hers for him. "Until this moment,"
he said, "I have never understood the eager desire which some people
have to sit for their portraits. Whenever _you_ say."

She laughed. "And the new door-knobs?"

"Just because a man belongs to the secret service," returned the youth,
"is no reason why he shouldn't attempt once in a while to do something
really useful."