amused.

"Certainly--you--went to the room--then to the clerk--said you were in
at supper--just occurred to me streets here bad at night--thought
I'd ask you to let me escort you to theatre and back--a bit of lunch
later--" he glanced suspiciously at Keith--"probably got here too late."

"Well really you have, Doctor," she replied sweetly, veiling her eyes
to hide their laughter. "But I can assure you it is not Mr. Keith,"
courtesying slightly to the latter, "for he has not honored me; we
merely met by chance at the table. I am sure I should enjoy your company
exceedingly, but to-night I must plead a previous engagement."

"Ah--ah, some other night?"

"With pleasure, yes."

The doctor faded away into the office, not wholly satisfied because
Keith still lingered. Miss Christie extended her hand.

"Isn't he a funny man? But I do like him--someway I like so many people
whom perhaps I ought not, including you, Mr. Jack Keith. Please think
over what I told you about Mr. Hawley, won't you?"

"Certainly; you have given me food for thought. I presume he is to be
your escort?"

She bowed, evidently resenting the question.

"Yes, and it may interest you to know that he has something of the
utmost importance to tell me to-night--he has actually seen my guardian.
Don't you wish you could be there?"

She gave him a tantalizing smile, withdrawing her hand, and running up
the stairs before he could answer. Over the railing of the landing she
glanced down, and then disappeared.

Chapter XXVII. Miss Hope Suggests

No sooner had Miss Maclaire vanished than Keith's thoughts turned toward
Hope Waite. She would need someone in her loneliness to take her
mind from off her brother's death, and, besides, much had occurred of
interest since the funeral, which he desired to talk over with her.
Beyond even these considerations he was becoming aware of a pleasure in
the girl's company altogether foreign to this mystery which they were
endeavoring together to solve. He yearned to be with her, to look
into her face, to mark how clearly the differing soul changed her from
Christie Maclaire. He could not help but like the latter, yet somehow
was conscious of totally different atmospheres surrounding the two.
With one he could be flippant, careless, even deceitful, but the other
aroused only the best that was in him, her own sincerity making him
sincere.

Yet there was reluctance in his steps as he approached the door of "15,"