"But he won't. There is no fear of that."

A movement in the crowd brought Edith Fenton at this moment to the side
of Mr. Hubbard. She was radiant to-night in her primrose gown, and the
gentleman, with whom she was always a favorite, turned toward her with
evident pleasure.

"Isn't it a jam," she said. "I have ceased to have any control over my
movements."

"That is unkind, when I fancied you allowed yourself to give me the
pleasure of seeing you," returned he with elaborate courtesy. "Let me
take you in to the supper-room."

"Thank you," Edith replied, taking his arm. "I do not object to an ice,
and I want to ask a favor. Haven't you some copying you can give a
_protegee_ of mine? She's a lovely girl, and she really writes very
nicely. I assure you she needs the work, or I wouldn't bother you."

They made their way into the hall before he answered. Then he asked,
with some seriousness,--

"Are you sure she is absolutely to be trusted?"

"Trusted? Why, of course. I'd trust her as absolutely as I would
myself."

"I asked because I do happen to have some copying I want done; but it
is of the most serious importance that it be kept secret. It is the
prospectus of a big business scheme, and if a hint of it got on the air