to-morrow afternoon. Will
five be convenient?"

"No." She spoke now with the curtness of the morning. "In no
circumstances," she added, decisively.

"But--why?"

He was dazed. If ever a knight errant worked under greater difficulties
than these, Laurie told himself, he'd like to know the poor chap's name.

"I have no wish to meet Miss Orleneff."

"But she's an ideal person for you to know, experienced, sympathetic,
and understanding. She did a lot for my sister last year. I must tell
you all about that sometime. She could do more for you--"

"Mr. Devon!" The finality of her tone brought him up short. "We must
understand each other."

"I should like nothing better." He, too, was suddenly formal.

"This morning you projected yourself into my life."

"Literally," he cordially agreed.

"I am grateful to you for what you did and what you wish to do. But I
will not meet any more strangers. I will not meet Miss Orleneff, or any
one else. Is that clear?"

"Oh, perfectly!" Laurie sighed. "Of course you're a crowned head," he
mused aloud. "I had forgotten. Would you like my head on a charger, or
anything like that?"

She studied him thoughtfully.

"Almost from the first," she said, "and except for an occasional minute
or two, you have refused to be serious. That interests me. Why is it?
Aren't you willing to realize that there are real troubles in the world,
terrible troubles, that the bravest go down under?"

"Of course." He was serious now. He had begun to realize that fully.
"It's my unfortunate manner, I suppose," he defended himself. "I've
never taken anything seriously for very long. It's hard to form the
habit, all of a sudden."

"You will have to take me seriously."

He made a large gesture of acceptance.

"All right," he promised. "That brings us back to where we were. Tell me
the truth. If there's anything in it that really menaces you, you'll
find me serious enough."

Before answering, she rose and opened the studio door, on which, he
observed with approval, a strong new lock and an inside bolt had already
been placed. He saw her peer up and down the hall. Then she closed and
bolted the door, and returned to her chair. The precaution brought
before him a mental vision of Herbert Ransome Shaw prowling about the
dim corridors. He spoke incredulously.

[Illustration: "There is someone outside that door!" she whispered]

"Are you really afraid of that chap?"

"I have good reason to be," she sai