in the vestibule. Why should this girl speak to him?
Something had gone wrong, and the instinct of the man, no longer very
young, to keep out of strange young women's troubles betrayed itself in
the uneasy glance that he shot at her from under his heavy eyebrows.
But the look faded as quickly as it had come. Laura guessed that he had
decided that in such a place as this he need have no suspicions. He
took the cigar from his mouth, and she, immensely relieved, realised
that she had to do with a man who was a gentleman. Full of trepidation
as she had been in crossing the vestibule, she was quite mistress of
herself when the instant came for her to speak, and it was in a steady
voice and without embarrassment that she said:

"I beg your pardon, but I believe this is Mr. Jadwin."

He took off his hat, evidently a little nonplussed that she should know
his name, and by now she was ready even to browbeat him a little should
it be necessary.

"Yes, yes," he answered, now much more confused than she, "my name is
Jadwin."

"I believe," continued Laura steadily, "we were all to be in the same
party to-night with the Cresslers. But they don't seem to come, and
we--my sister and my aunt and I--don't know what to do."

She saw that he was embarrassed, convinced, and the knowledge that she
controlled the little situation, that she could command him, restored
her all her equanimity.

"My name is Miss Dearborn," she continued. "I believe you know my
sister Page."

By some trick of manner she managed to convey to him the impression
that if he did not know her sister Page, that if for one instant he
should deem her to be bold, he would offer a mortal affront. She had
not yet forgiven him that stare of suspicion when first their eyes had
met; he should pay her for that yet.

"Miss Page,--your sister,--Miss Page Dearborn? Certainly I know her,"
he answered. "And you have been waiting, too? What a pity!" And he
permitted himself the awkwardness of adding: "I did not know that you
were to be of our party."

"No," returned Laura upon the instant, "I did not know you were to be
one of us to-night--until Page told me." She accented the pronouns a
little, but it was enough for him to know that he had been rebuked.
How, he could not just say; and for what it was impossible for him at
the moment to determine; and she could see that he began to experience
a certain distress, was beating a retreat, was ceding place to her. Who
was she,