ssible that two persons should look so much alike and not be
related?"

"I don't think I ever heard of the lady," stated Mrs. Propbridge
somewhat coldly.

"Again, madam, please excuse me," he said. "I am very, very sorry to
have annoyed you." He bowed his bared head and turned away. Then
quickly he swung on his heel and returned to her, his hat again in his
left hand.

"Madam," he said, "I am fearful that you are suspecting me of being one
of the objectionable breed of he-flirts who infest this place. At the
risk of being tiresome I must repeat once more that your wonderful
resemblance to another person led me into this awkward error. My name,
madam, is Murrill--Valentine C. Murrill--and I am sure that if you only
had the time and the patience to bear with me I could find someone
here--some acquaintance of yours perhaps--who would vouch for me and
make it plain to you that I am not addicted to the habit of forcing
myself upon strangers on the pretext that I have met them somewhere."

His manner was disarming. It was more than that; it was outright
engaging. He was carefully groomed, smartly turned out; he had the
manner and voice of a well-bred person. To Mrs. Propbridge he seemed a
candid, courteous soul unduly distressed over a small matter.

"Please don't concern yourself about it," she said. "I didn't suspect
you of being a professional masher; I was only rather startled, that's
all."

"Thank you for telling me so," he said. "You take a load off my mind, I
assure you. Pardon me again, please--but did I understand you to say a
moment ago that your name was Propbridge?"

"Yes."

"It isn't a very common name. Surely you are not the Mrs. Propbridge?"

Without being in the least presuming he somehow had managed to convey a
subtle tribute.

"I am Mrs. Justus Propbridge, if that is what you mean," she said.

"Well, then," he said in tones of relief, "that simplifies matters. Is
your husband about, madam? If he is I will do myself the honor of
introducing myself to him and repeating to him the explanation I have
just made to you. You see, I am by way of being one of the small fish
who circulate on the outer edge of the big sea where the large financial
whales swim, and it is possible that he may have heard my name and may
know who I am."

"My husband isn't here," she explained. "He was called away last night
on business."

"Again my misfortune," he said.

They were in motion now; he had fallen into step a