Mr. Merriam--"

"My name isn't Merriam," he resented, at last, a misnomer which had
annoyed him from the first.

"Oh, I am so glad! Don't tell me what it is!" she said, giving a laugh
which had to go on a little before he recognized the hysterical quality
in it. When she could check it she explained: "Now we are not even
acquainted, and I can thank a stranger for the kindness you have shown
me. I am truly grateful. Will you do me another favor?"

"Yes," Verrian assented; but he thought he had a right to ask, as though
he had not promised, "What is it?"

"Not to speak of me to Mrs. Westangle unless she speaks of me first."

"That's simple. I don't know that I should have any right to speak of
you."

"Oh yes, you would. She will expect you, perhaps, to laugh about the
little adventure, and I would rather she began the laughing you have been
so good."

"All right. But wouldn't my silence make it rather more awkward?"

"I will take care of the awkwardness, thank you. And you promise?"

"Yes, I promise."

"That is very good of you." She put her hand impulsively across the