I shall love him and be good
to him always." She was yet too young and too innocent to know how
impossible was the scheme of life she was proposing to herself, but she
was thoroughly happy in it.

Mrs. Belding, as she read, grew perplexed and troubled. She threw down
one newspaper and took up another, but evidently got no more comfort
out of that. At last she sighed and said, "Oh, dear! Oh, dear! I shall
have to go down there after all. They have got the wrong man!"

Alice looked up with wondering eyes.

"These accounts all agree that the assassin is a tall, powerful young
man, with yellow hair and beard. The real man was not more than medium
height, very dark. Why, he was black and shiny as a cricket. I must go
and tell them. I wonder who the lawyer is that does the indicting of
people?"

"It must be the prosecuting attorney, Mr. Dalton," said Alice. "I heard
he was elected this spring. You know him very well. You meet him
everywhere."

"That elegant young fellow who leads germans? Well, if that is not too
absurd! I never should have thought of him, outside of a dress-coat. I
don't mind a bit going to see _him_. Order the carriage, while I get my
things on."

She drove down to the City Hall, and greatly astonished Mr. Dalton by
walking into his office and requesting a moment's private conversation
with him. Dalton was a dapper young man, exceedingly glib and well
dressed, making his way in political and official, as he had already
made it in social life. He greeted Mrs. Belding with effusion, and was
anxious to know how he might serve her, having first cleared the room
of the half-dozen politicians who did their lounging there.

"It is a most delicate matter for a lady to appear in, and I must ask
you to keep my name as much in reserve as possible."

"Of course, you may count upon me," he answered, wondering where this
strange exordium would lead to.

"You have got the wrong man. I am sure of it. It was not the blonde
one. He was black as a cricket. I saw him as plainly as I see you. You
know we live next door to Captain Farnham----"

"Ah!" Dalton cried. "Certainly. I understand. This is most important.
Pray go on."

With a few interruptions from him, full of tact and intelligence, she
told the whole story, or as much of it as was required. She did not
have to mention Alice's name, or the opera-glass; though the clever
young man said to himself, "She is either growing very far-sighted, or
she was scouri