ced him. "Mr. Riatt," she
said, "when I was a child I used to let the mice out of the traps--not so
much, I'm afraid, from tenderness for the mice, as from dislike of my
natural enemy, the cook. Since then I have never been able to see a mouse
in anybody's trap but my own, without a desire to release it."

"And I am the mouse?"

She nodded. "And in rather a dangerous sort of trap, too."

He smiled at the seriousness of her tone.

"Ah," said she, "the self-confidence which your smile betrays is one of
the weaknesses by which nature has delivered your sex into the hands of
mine. I would explain it to you at length, but the time is too short. The
great offensive may begin at any moment. The Usshers have made up their
minds that you are to marry Christine Fenimer. That was why you were
asked here."

"Innocent Westerner as I am," he answered, "that idea--"

She interrupted him. "Yes, but don't you see it's entirely different now.
Now they really have a sort of hold on you. I don't know what Christine's
own attitude may be, but I can tell you this: her position was so
difficult that she was on the point of engaging herself to Ned."

"Oh, come," said Riatt politely, "your brother is not so bad as you seem
to think."

"He's not bad at all, poor dear. He's very good; but women do not fall in
love with him. You, on the contrary, are rich and attractive. You'll just
have to take my word for that," she added without a trace of coquetry.
"And so--and so--and so, if I were you, my dear Cousin Max, I should give
orders to have my bag packed at once, and take a very slow, tiresome
train that leaves here at twelve-forty-something, and not even wait for
the afternoon express."

There was that in her tone that would have made the blood of any man run
cold with terror, but he managed a smile. "In my place you would run
away?" he said.

She shook her head. "No, I wouldn't run away myself, but I advise you to.
I shouldn't be in any danger. Being a mere woman, I can be cruel, cold
and selfish when the occasion demands. But this is a situation that
requires all the qualities a man doesn't possess."

"What do you mean?"

"Does your heart become harder when a pretty woman cries? Is your
conscience unmoved by the responsibility of some one else's unhappiness?
Can you be made love to without a haunting suspicion that you brought it
on yourself?"

"Good heavens, no!" cried Riatt from the heart.

"Then, run while there's time."