might keep him near me, enjoy
his society, and still be on duty, by making myself known; and so,
until he chose to go on duty for a part of the day, we went up and
down Midway, and in and out of the foreign villages together, as Dave
described us, 'keeping step, with our chin-straps up.'

We had made our first appearance in the Plaisance as a brace of guards
off duty, on the day upon which I posted the decoy letter to the
little brunette.

I had made this letter as brief as possible, merely asking her to name
a day or evening when she would be at liberty to do the Liberal Arts,
etc., in company with the writer, and upon second thought, I saw that
it would be a great mistake for me to call for the reply, in case the
brunette caught at the bait. She had shown herself a wary opponent,
and she might think it worth while to know who received her answer.

It was late in the day when we left Midway, and with this new thought
in my mind I dropped Lossing's arm as we approached the Java village,
and skirting the west side of the inclosure, left the grounds by the
Midway exit at Madison Avenue, and hastened on to Washington Avenue.

As I turned a corner I saw a smart carriage at Miss Jenrys' door, but
before I had reached the house I saw the driver turn his head and
gather up his reins, and the next moment Monsieur Voisin, attired as
if for a visit of ceremony, came down the steps slowly, almost
reluctantly, it seemed to me, entered the carriage, and dashed past me
without a glance to right or left.

A card brought Miss Jenrys to the little reception-room where I
waited, and when she had inspected my disguise, which she declared
quite perfect, I made known my errand, and, as I fully expected, she
declared my second thought best.

'I will go to-morrow; there will hardly be an answer before that time;
and--suppose we should meet?'

Before I could reply, the door opened and Miss Ross came in.

'A disguised detective is a thing to see!' she declared; and then,
when she had looked me over and marvelled at the fit of my wig, she
turned to her niece:

'June, child, did thee speak of our dilemma?'

'Auntie, you must give me time!' her face flushing rosily.

'Time indeed! did not this young man's card say, 'A moment. In haste'?
And can we entertain this strange young man by the hour? Fie upon
thee, June! Do thy duty, else----'

June's hand went out in a pretty gesture, and between the two they
made the 'dilemma' clear to me