The young man looked unpleasantly mystified. "What secret?" he asked.

She started to explain. He seemed amused, at first, in a supercilious
kind of way. But Mary Alice was so interested in her "burning theme"
that she did not notice how he looked. Gradually his superciliousness
faded.

"Let us find a place where you can tell me the Secret," he said,
looking about the drawing-room. Every place seemed taken.

"There's a settle in the hall," suggested Mary Alice. And they went
out and sat on that. "But I can't tell you the Secret," she said.
"Not yet, anyway."

"Please!" he begged. "I may never see you again."

She looked distressed. "Oh, do you think so?" she said. "But anyhow I
can't tell you. I can only tell you up to where the Secret comes in,
and then--if I never see you again, you can think about it; and any
time you write to me for the Secret, I'll send it to you to help you
when you need it most."

"I need it now," he urged.

"No, you don't," she answered. "I thought I needed it right away, but
I wouldn't have understood it or believed it if I'd heard it then."
And she told him how it was whispered to her, after she had been kind
to the man of many millions.

"And does it work?" he asked, laughing at her story of the toast and