Argus?"

"Did I?" said Streeter, somewhat startled--the thought of the meeting
that was so close, which he had forgotten for the moment, flashing over
him. "Yes, I did; and I had the pleasure of meeting the person who
wrote it this evening."

Miss Neville almost jumped in her chair.

"Oh, I did not intend you to know that!" she said. "Who told you? How
did you find out that I wrote reviews for the Argus?"

"You!" cried Streeter, astonished in his turn. "Do you mean to say that
you wrote that review?"

Miss Neville sank back in her chair with a sigh.

"There!" she said, "my impetuosity has, as the Americans say, given me
away. After all, you did not know I was the writer!"

"I thought Davison was the writer. I had it on the very best
authority."

"Poor Davison!" said Miss Neville, laughing, "why, he is one of the
best and staunchest friends you have: and so am I, for that matter--
indeed, I am even more your friend than Mr. Davison; for I think you
_can_ do good work, while Mr. Davison is foolish enough to believe you
are doing it."

At this point in the conversation Streeter looked hurriedly at his