ation is
so--er--peculiar that I ought to be thankful to exchange identities
with any man. But I wouldn't with Mr. Ruthven Smith for all his money
and jewels."

Annesley opened her eyes. "Did I say anything about jewels?" she asked.

"No, you didn't," the man assured her, "except in mentioning the name of
Ruthven Smith. Anybody who has lived in America as long as I have,
associates jewels with the name of Ruthven Smith. His 'Ruthven' lifts him
far above the ruck of a _mere_ Smith--like myself, for instance"; and he
smiled again.

Annesley began curiously to feel as if she knew him well. This made her
more anxious to give him help--for it would not be helping a stranger: it
would be helping a friend.

"I've heard, of course, that he's something--I'm not sure what--in a firm
of jewellers," she said. "But I'd no idea of his being so important."

"He's third partner with Van Vreck & Co.," her companion explained. "I've
heard he joined at first because of his great knowledge of jewels and
because he's been able to revive the lost art of making certain
transparent enamels. The Van Vrecks sent for him from England years ago.
He buys jewels for the firm now, I believe. No doubt that's why he's in
such a funk about burglars."

"Fancy your knowing more about Mr. Smith than I know! Perhaps more than
Mrs. Ellsworth knows!" exclaimed Annesley, forgetting the strain of
expectation--the dread that a pair of mysterious, nightmare men might
break up the dreamlike dinner-party for two.

"I don't know more about him than half America and Europe knows," laughed
the man. "It's lucky I _do_ know something, though, as I may have to be
mistaken for Ruthven Smith, and add an 'N' to his initials. I suppose
he's not in England now by any chance?"

"No. It must be six or seven months since he was here last," said
Annesley. "I don't think Mrs. Ellsworth has heard from him. She hardly
ever does until a day or two before he's due to arrive; neither do his
cousins."

"A peculiar fellow, it would seem," remarked her companion. And then, out
of a plunge into thought, "You say you've never seen the Mr. Smith you
came to meet at the Savoy? How can you be sure it isn't old 'R. S.' as
they call him at Van Vreck's, wanting to play you a trick--give you a
surprise?"

Annesley shook her head. "If you knew Mr. Ruthven Smith, you'd know that
would be impossible. Why, I don't believe he remembers when I'm out of
sight that I exist."

"Still more pe