ce and lent a shadow to her eyes which gave
them an added witchery. Wickersham thought he had never known her so
pretty or so chic. He had not seen as handsome a figure that day, and he
had sat at the club window and scanned the avenue with an eye for
fine figures.

She held out her hand in the friendliest way, and looking into his eyes
quite frankly, said, with the most natural of voices:

"Well, I know you think I have gone crazy, and are consumed with
curiosity to know what I wanted with you?"

"I don't know about the curiosity," he said, smiling at her. "Suppose we
call it interest. You don't have to be told now that I shall be only too
delighted if I am fortunate enough to be of any service to you." He bent
down and looked so deep into her eyes that she drew a little back.

"The fact is, I am plotting a little treason," she said, with a blush,
slightly embarrassed.

"By Jove! she is a real beauty," thought Wickersham, noting, with the
eye of a connoisseur, the white, round throat, the dainty curves of the
slim figure, and the purity of the oval face, in which the delicate
color came and went under his gaze.

"Well, if this be treason, I'll make the most of it," he said, with his
most fascinating smile. "Treasons, stratagems, and spoils are my game."

"But this may be treason partly against yourself?" She gave a
half-glance up at him to see how he took this.

"I am quite used to this, too, my dear girl, I assure you," he said,
wondering more and more. She drew back a little at the familiarity.

"Come and let us stroll in the Park," he suggested, and though she
demurred a little, he pressed her, saying it was quieter there, and she
would have a better opportunity of showing him how he could help her.

They walked along talking, he dealing in light badinage of a flattering
kind, which both amused and disturbed her a little, and presently he
turned into a somewhat secluded alley, where he found a bench sheltered
and shadowed by the overhanging boughs of a tree.

"Well, here is a good place for confidences." He took her hand and,
seating himself, drew her down beside him. "I will pretend that you are
a charming dryad, and I--what shall I be?"

"My friend," she said calmly, and drew her hand away from him.

"_Votre ami? Avec tout mon coeur_. I will be your best friend." He held
out his hand.

"Then you will do what I ask? You are also a good friend of Mrs.
Wentworth?"

A little cloud flitted over his fa