"I feel quite sure of it."

"You poor, dear, innocent creature."

"However," he went on, sitting down beside her on the wide, low sofa,
"something tells me that I shall enjoy extremely having you tell me all
about it."

Tucking one foot under her, as every girl is taught in the school-room it
is most unladylike to do, she turned and faced him. "Mr. Riatt," she
said, "when I was a child I used to let the mice out of the traps--not so
much, I'm afraid, from tenderness for the mice, as from dislike of my
natural enemy, the cook. Since then I have never been able to see a mouse
in anybody's trap but my own, without a desire to release it."

"And I am the mouse?"

She nodded. "And in rather a dangerous sort of trap, too."

He smiled at the seriousness of her tone.

"Ah," said she, "the self-confidence which your smile betrays is one of
the weaknesses by which nature has delivered your sex into the hands of
mine. I would explain it to you at length, but the time is too short. The
great offensive may begin at any moment. The Usshers have made up their
minds that you are to marry Christine Fenimer. That was why you were
asked here."

"Innocent Westerner as I am," he answered, "that idea--"