“Except common sense,” frowned Luella. “The most uncommon of qualities, my dear,” laughed Mrs. Knapp. “Sit down, children. I must see to Mr. Carter, who is lost by the portière and will never be discovered unless I rescue him.” “Take him to dear Aunt Julia,” said Luella as her mother left us. “Dear Aunt Julia,” I inferred, was Mrs. Bowser. I was certain that Mr. Carter would not find the demands of conversation too much for him if he was blest with the company of that charming dame. Luella took a seat, and I followed her example. Then, with chin in hand and elbow on the arm of her chair, the young woman looked at me calmly and thoughtfully. I grew a little uncomfortable as my self-possession melted away before this steady gaze. I had no observations to make, being uncertain about the weather, so I had the prudence to keep silent. “Well,” said Luella at last, in a cutting voice, “why don't you talk?” “It's your lead,” said I gloomily. “You took the last trick.” At this reference to our meeting, Luella looked surprised. Then she gave a little rippling laugh. “Really,” she said, “I believe I shall begin to like you, yet.” “That's very kind of you; but turn about is fair play.” “You mustn't do that,” said she severely, “or I shan't.” “I meant it,” said I defiantly. “Then you ought to know better than to say it,” she retorted. “I'm in need of lessons, I fear.” “How delightful of you to confess it! Then shall I tell you what to do?” This was very charming. I hastened to say: “Do, by all means.” The young woman sank back in her chair, clasped her hands in her lap as her mother had done, and glanced hastily about. Then in a low voice she said: “Be yourself.” It was an electric shock she gave me, not more by the words than by the tone. I struggled for a moment before I regained my mental balance. “Don't you think we could get on safer ground?” I suggested. “No,” said Luella. “There isn't any safe ground for us otherwise.” The sudden heart-sickness at the reminder of my mission with which these words overwhelmed me, tied my tongue and mastered my spirits. It was this girl's father that I was pursuing. It was to bring him to the halter that I must keep up my masquerade. It was to bring her to sorrow and disgrace that I was bound by the dead hand of my murdered friend. Oh, why was this burden laid upon me? Why was I to be torn on the rack between inclination and duty? Luella watched my face narrowly through the conflict in my mind, and I felt as though her spirit struggled with mine to win me to the course of open, honest dealing. But it was impossible. She must be the last of all to know.