"You must be very much surprised." I had said "Yes," before I stopped to think; and then I was sorry, because it showed that I was thinking he did not belong in such a scene as this. But it was too late to go back, so I went on, instead. "It's a good surprise." "It's more than kind of you not quite to have forgotten a waif like me," he said. "I shall never forget you," said I. "Why, of course, I couldn't." And I noticed that my voice sounded quite earnest, just as I felt; but I wasn't sure that I ought to let him know--even if he was poor and unlucky--that I did feel so sincerely about it. "There's Vivace, you know, for one reason." "What about Vivace?" "Oh, you needn't pretend; because I was sure you gave him to me, and I wanted so much to write to that Club and thank you, only I thought as you had put no name, perhaps I'd better not. I must tell you now, though; I can't think how you came to be so kind." "It was one of the greatest pleasures I have ever had. _You_ were kind not to be offended with me. I didn't mean to take a liberty. I thought you would like the little chap." "I love him dearly. Often I should have been dreadfully homesick if it hadn't been for him. He always seems to understand if I feel gloomy, and he does his dear little brindled best to cheer me up." "Vivace is a lucky and happy dog." "But don't you miss him?" "No. For I like to think that you have him. You see, you were very kind to me, when I was in a hard position, and a good deal down on my luck. There was nothing I could do to show how I appreciated it--until I thought of Vivace. It was our little talk on the dock, about 'finding a lost dog,' that put the idea into my head." "I guessed as much," said I, laughing. "It was that made me sure at once who it was I had to thank for Vivace. And--I was glad he had been yours. After what I'd seen you do on board ship, you know, I--I honoured you. And I feel proud to think that--we are friends." "You think of me as your friend?" he asked, in a voice that showed he was glad, or excited, or something that wasn't quite calm. "Indeed, I do think of you so," I assured him. "And you've proved your friendship for me three times. Once on the dock. Once, by giving up dear Vivace for me. And now again to-night, when you came to my rescue. I was--really bored in there, you know. And people seem to give themselves so much liberty in--in their jokes when they're masked." "I have to thank the masks for being at Mrs. Stuyvesant-Knox's house to-night," said Jim Brett. "You must be wondering how they let me in, considering that, on account of the masks, everybody had to show their invitation cards at the gates. I had mine all right. But--there are such things as newspaper reporters, as you know to your sorrow. I don't say I _am_ here in that capacity; but I leave you to draw your own conclusions." "What fun!" I exclaimed.