“And we'll hope that he will be kept safe until the danger has passed.” I hoped so devoutly, and said as much. And after a few more words, Mrs. Knapp led me, feebly resisting, to Mrs. Bowser. “Oh, Mr. Wilton,” said that charming dame, “my heart goes pit-a-pat when I see you, for it's almost like being among those dreadful highbinders again, and how could you bring the horrid creatures down on our dear Luella, when she might have been captured and sold into slavery under our very eyes.” “Ah, Mrs. Bowser,” said I gallantly, “I ought to have known what to expect on bringing such a temptation before our Chinese friends. I do not see how you escaped being carried off.” “Oh, now, Mr. Wilton,” exclaimed Mrs. Bowser, retreating behind her fan; “you are really too flattering. I must say, though, that some of them did make dreadful eyes at me, till I felt that I should faint. And do they really hold their slave-market right in the middle of San Francisco? And why doesn't the president break it up, and what is the Emancipation Proclamation for, I should like to know?” “Madam,” I replied, “the slave-market is _sub rosa_, but I advise you to keep out of Chinatown. Some temptations are irresistible.” Mrs. Bowser giggled behind her fan and was too pleased to speak, and I took advantage of the lull to excuse myself and make a dive into the next room where I espied Luella. “Yes, you may sit down here,” she said carelessly. “I want to be amused.” I was not at all certain that I was flattered to be considered amusing; but I was willing to stay on any terms, so we fell into animated conversation on nothing and everything. In the midst of this entertaining situation I discovered that Mrs. Knapp was watching us, and her face showed no easy state of mind. As I caught her eye she moved away, and a minute later Mr. Carter appeared with,-- “Excuse me, Miss Knapp, but your mother would like to see you. She and my wife have some conspiracy on hand.” I was pleased to see that Luella did not take the interruption gratefully, but she surrendered her place to Mr. Carter, who talked about the weather with a fertility of commonplaces that excited my admiration. But as even the weather has its limits as a subject of interest and the hour grew late, I suppressed a yawn and sought the ladies to take my leave. “Oh, must you go?” said Luella, rising. And, leaving Mrs. Carter to her mother, she walked with me to the hall as though she would speak with me. But once more alone, with only the hum of voices from the reception-room as company, she fell silent, and I could think of nothing to say. “It's very good of you to come,” she said hesitatingly. My mind went back to that other evening when I had left the door in humiliation and bitterness of spirit. Perhaps she, too, was thinking of the time. “It's much better of you to wish me to come,” I said with all my heart, taking her hand. “Come on Saturday,” she said at last. “I'm at your service at any time,” I murmured.