room, besides Miss Montague and her mother, and a second young lady.

"Excuse this late call," I said, quietly, bowing. "But I have only one
night in Scarborough, Miss Montague, and I wanted to see you. I'm a
friend of Mr. Holsworthy's. I told him I'd look you up, and this is my
sole opportunity."

I FELT rather than saw that Miss Montague darted a quick glance of
hidden meaning at her friends the chappies; their faces, in response,
ceased to snigger and grew instantly sober.

She took my card; then, in her alternative manner as the perfect lady,
she presented me to her mother. "Dr. Cumberledge, mamma," she said, in a
faintly warning voice. "A friend of Mr. Holsworthy's."

The old lady half rose. "Let me see," she said, staring at me. "WHICH is
Mr. Holsworthy, Siss?--is it Cecil or Reggie?"

One of the chappies burst into a fatuous laugh once more at this remark.
"Now, you're giving away the whole show, Mrs. Montague!" he exclaimed,
with a chuckle. A look from Miss Sissie immediately checked him.

I am bound to admit, however, that after these untoward incidents of
the first minute, Miss Montague and her friends behaved throughout
with distinguished propriety. Her manners were perfect--I may even say
demure. She asked about "Cecil" with charming naivete. She was frank and
girlish. Lots of innocent fun in her, no doubt--she sang us a comic
song in excellent taste, which is a severe test--but not a suspicion of
double-dealing. If I had not overheard those few words as I came up
the stairs, I think I should have gone away believing the poor girl an