ennedy the annoyance of a vacant chair.

There was no disputing the fact that I looked most disgustingly like
Clark when I got into his clothes. I actually felt a grudge against
them for their excellent fit.

"You'll do," said Clark. "Remember you're a Conservative to-night and
don't let your rank Liberal views crop out, or you'll queer me for
all time with the great and only Mark. He doesn't talk politics at his
dinners, though, so you're not likely to have trouble on that score.
Mrs. Kennedy has a weakness for beer mugs. Her collection is
considered very fine. Scandal whispers that Miss Harvey has a budding
interest in settlement work--"

"Miss who?" I said sharply.

"Harvey. Christian name unknown. That's the girl I mentioned. You'll
probably take her in. Be nice to her even if you have to make an
effort. She's the one I've picked out as your future cousin, you know,
so I don't want you to spoil her good opinion of me in any way."

The name had given me a jump. Once, in another world, I had known a
Jane Harvey. But Clark's Miss Harvey couldn't be Jane. A month before
I had read a newspaper item to the effect that Jane was on the Pacific
coast. Moreover, Jane, when I knew her, had certainly no manifest
vocation for settlement work. I didn't think two years could have
worked such a transformation. Two years! Was it only two years? It
seemed more like two centuries.

I went to the Kennedys' in a pleasantly excited frame of mind and a
cab. I just missed being late by a hairbreadth. The house was a big
one, and everybody pertaining to it was big, except the host. Mark
Kennedy was a little, thin man with a bald head. He didn't look like a
political power, but that was all the more reason for his being one in
a world where things are not what they seem.

Mrs. Kennedy greeted me cordially and told me significantly that she
had granted my request. This meant, as my card had already informed
me, that I was to take Miss Harvey out. Of course there would be no
introduction since Clark Oliver was already acquainted with the lady.
I was wondering how I was to locate her when I got a shock that made
me dizzy. Jane was over in a corner looking at me.

There was no time to collect my wits. The guests were moving out to
the dining-room. I took my nerve in my hand, crossed the room, bowed,
and the next moment was walking through the hall with Jane's hand on
my arm. The hall was a good long one; I blessed the architect who had