"Mrs. Wilson is quite right," he said gravely. "We're a selfish
lot. If Miss Caruthers is a responsibility, let us share her."

"To arms!" Jim said, with an affectation of lightness, as they
put their glasses down, and threw open the door. Dal's retort,
"Whose?" was lost in the confusion, and we went into the library.
On the way Dallas managed to speak to me.

"If Harbison doesn't know, don't tell him," he said in an
undertone. "He's a queer duck, in some ways; he mightn't think it
funny."

"Funny," I choked. "It's the least funny thing I ever
experienced. Deceiving that Harbison man isn't so bad--he thinks
me crazy, anyhow. He's been staring his eyes out at me--"

"I don't wonder. You're really lovely tonight, Kit, and you look
like a vixen."

"But to deceive that harmless old lady--well, thank goodness,
it's nine, and she leaves in an hour or so."

But she didn't and that's the story.



Chapter IV. THE DOOR WAS CLOSED

It was infuriating to see how much enjoyment every one but Jim