said indiscreet letter.'"

"Alone?" gasped the Traveling Salesman.

The twinkle in the Youngish Girl's eyes brightened perceptibly, but
the firmness did not falter from her mouth.

"Are people apt to go in--crowds to--meet consequences?" she asked,
perfectly pleasantly.

"Oh--come, now!" said the Traveling Salesman's most persuasive voice.
"You don't want to go and get mixed up in any sensational nonsense
and have your picture stuck in the Sunday paper, do you?"

The Youngish Girl's manner stiffened a little. "Do I look like a
person who gets mixed up in sensational nonsense?" she demanded rather
sternly.

"N-o-o," acknowledged the Traveling Salesman conscientiously. "N-o-o;
but then there's never any telling what you calm, quiet-looking,
still-waters sort of people will go ahead and do--once you get
started." Anxiously he took out his watch, and then began hurriedly to
pack his samples back into his case. "It's only twenty-five minutes
more," he argued earnestly. "Oh, I say now, don't you go off and do
anything foolish! My wife will be down at the station to meet me.
You'd like my wife. You'd like her fine!--Oh, I say now, you come
home with us for Sunday, and think things over a bit."

As delightedly as when the Traveling Salesman had asked her how she
fixed her hair, the Youngish Girl's hectic nervousness broke into