had
loitered, after a little time spent in some of the buildings opposite,
in these two houses, where she could overlook the entrance and the
bridge. It was not "nice" to be alone so much, and her "mamma" did not
like her to be alone, but she could not bear to lose the Fair, any of
it. Did I like going about alone? They were stopping at a hotel quite
near. Did I like a hotel? etc. In short, one of her objects, I am
sure, was to learn how long we mean to stay here in Chicago; and
another, who were in the house with us, if it were large, and if there
were other rooms to let----'

'One moment,' I broke in. 'Did she ask for your street or number, or
both? and how did you reply to her?'

'My answers were politely vague. She did not ask for our address, and
I thought it rather strange. She knows that there are "several people
at our house, but no room for more," and that our stay depends upon
circumstances; but she had one important request to make, and she made
it very adroitly. Seeing that I, like herself, was alone, at least
sometimes, she had wondered, if it were possible, if I would not like
to see the grounds by night. Her "mamma" did not care to come out
after six o'clock, she feared the lake breezes; and she did so long to
explore the grounds at night. Would it be possible--would I be willing
to accompany her, when I had no better companion, of course, for an
hour or so, some evening soon, to see the grounds and buildings
illuminated? Her "mamma" had told her she might ask, provided of
course she was sure, which of course she was, that I was "quite nice
and proper." As for herself, she was quite prepared with her cards and
references.'

She stopped here, and challenged my opinion with a piquant,
questioning look.

'My child!' ejaculated Aunt Ann, 'thee did not accept?'

'Was that all?' I asked.

'It was quite enough,' she replied, quite gravely now. 'She gave me a
card with a written address upon it, and I told her I would let her
know to-morrow morning by mail.'

'June, thee must not go!'

She turned to me, without replying to her aunt's exclamation.

'What do you think of it?' she asked calmly, but quite earnestly now,
in contrast to her light manner of telling her story.

'I think you have done well, both in going to meet this person and in
your manner of meeting her modest requests, but I think it has gone
far enough.'

'You think, then, that there is a plot--something serious?'

'I can see no oth