d address with commendable brevity.

Garrison was walking up and down the office.

"The next step----" he started to say, but his visitor interrupted.

"Isn't this the only step necessary to take until something arises
making others expedient?"

"There is one slight thing remaining," he answered, taking up her card.
"You are in a private residence?"

"Yes. The caretaker, a woman, is always there."

"Have you acquainted her with the fact of your marriage?"

"Certainly. She is an English servant. She asks no questions. But I
told her my husband is away from town and will be absent almost
constantly for the next two or three months."

Garrison slightly elevated his brows, in acknowledgment of the
thoroughness of her arrangements.

"I have never attempted much acting--a little at private theatricals,"
he told her; "but of course we shall both be obliged to play this
little domestic comedy with some degree of art."

She seemed prepared for that also, despite the sudden crimson of her
cheeks.

"Certainly."

"One more detail," he added. "You have probably found it necessary to
withhold certain facts from my knowledge. I trust I shall not be led
into awkward blunders. I shall do my best, and for the rest--I beg of
you to conduct the affair according to your own requirements and
judgment."

The slightly veiled smile in his eyes did not escape her observation.
Nevertheless, she accepted his proposal quite as a matter of course.

"Thank you. I am glad you relieved me of the necessity of making some
such suggestion. I think that is all--for the present." She stood up,
and, fingering her glove, glanced down at the table for a moment. "May
I pay, say, two hundred dollars now, as a retainer?"

"I shall be gratified if you will," he answered.

In silence she counted out the money, which she took from a purse in a
bag. The bills lay there in a heap.

"When you wish any more, will you please let me know?" she said. "And
when I require your services I will wire. Perhaps I'd better take both
this office and your house address."

He wrote them both on a card and placed it in her hand.

"Thank you," she murmured. She closed her purse, hesitated a moment,
then raised her eyes to his. Quite coldly she added: "Good-afternoon."

"Good-day," answered Garrison.

He opened the door, bowed to her slightly as she passed--then faced
about and stared at the money that lay upon his desk.

CHAPTER II

A