'But you must admit, Miss Brewster, that it is very unfair to get a man to engage in what he thinks is a private conversation, and then to publish what he has said.' 'My dear sir, if that were the case, how would we get anything for publication that people didn't want to be known? Why, I remember once, when the Secretary of State----' 'Yes,' interrupted Wentworth wearily; 'Fleming told me that story.' 'Oh, did he? Well, I'm sure I'm much obliged to him. Then I need not repeat it.' 'Do you mean to say that you intend to send to the _Argus_ for publication what I have told you in confidence?' 'Certainly. As I said before, that is what I am here for. Besides, there was no "in confidence" about it.' 'And yet you pretend to be a truthful, honest, honourable woman?' 'I don't _pretend_ it; I am.' 'How much truth, then, is there in your story that you are a millionaire's daughter about to visit your father in Paris, and accompany him from there to the Riviera?' Miss Brewster laughed brightly. 'Oh, I don't call fibs, which a person has to tell in the way of business, untruths.' 'Then probably you do not think your estimable colleague, Mr. J.K. Rivers, behaved dishonourably in Ottawa?' 'Well, hardly. I think Rivers was not justified in what he did because he was unsuccessful, that is all. I'll bet a dollar if I had got hold of these papers they would have gone through to New York; but, then, J.K. Rivers is only a stupid man, and most men _are_ stupid'--with a sly glance at Wentworth. 'I am willing to admit that, Miss Brewster, if you mean me. There never was a more stupid man than I have been.' 'My dear Mr. Wentworth, it will do you ever so much good if you come to a realization of that fact. The truth is, you take yourself much too seriously. Now, it won't hurt you a bit to have what I am going to send published in the _Argus_, and it will help me a great deal. Just you wait here for a few moments.' With that she flung her book upon his lap, sprang up, and vanished down the companion-way. In a very short time she reappeared with some sheets of paper in her hand. 'Now you see how fair and honest I am going to be. I am going to read you what I have written. If there is anything in it that is not true, I will very gladly cut it out; and if there is anything more to be added, I shall be very glad to add it. Isn't that fair?' Wentworth was so confounded with the woman's impudence that he could make no reply. She began to read: '"By an unexampled stroke of enterprise the _New York Argus_ is enabled this morning to lay before its readers a full and exclusive account of the report made by the two English specialists, Mr. George Wentworth and Mr. John Kenyon, who were sent over by the London Syndicate to examine into the accounts, and inquire into the true value of the mines of the Ottawa River."' She looked up from the paper, and said, with an air of friendly confidence: