Vance reflected a moment, and then, as if a plan had occurred to him by which he could provide for her without her knowing it, he replied: “We shall probably meet at the St. Charles. You can easily send for me, should you require my help. Be generous, and say you’ll notify me, should there be an hour of need?” “I’ll not fail to remember you in that event, Mr. Vance.” “Honor bright?” “Honor bright, Mr. Vance!” “Consider, Perdita, you can always find a home in this house. I shall give such directions to Mrs. Bernard as will make your presence welcome.” “Then I shall not feel utterly homeless. Thank you, Mr. Vance!” “And by the way, Perdita, do not let Miss Tremaine know that we are acquainted.” “I’ll heed your caution, Mr. Vance.” “We shall meet again, my dear young lady. Of that I feel assured.” “I hope so, Mr. Vance.” “And now farewell! I’ll tell Bernard to order a carriage and attend to your baggage. Good by, Perdita!” “Good by, Mr. Vance.” Again they shook hands, and parted. Vance gave his directions to the Bernards, and then strolled home to his hotel. As he traversed the corridor leading to his room, he encountered Kenrick. Their apartments were nearly opposite. “I was not aware we were such near neighbors, Mr. Kenrick.” “To me also ’t is a surprise,—and a pleasant one. Will you walk in, Mr. Vance?” “Yes, if ’t is not past your hour for visitors.” They went in, and Kenrick put up the gas. “I can’t offer you either cigars or whiskey; but you can ring for what you want.” “Is it possible you eschew alcohol and tobacco?” “Yes,” replied Kenrick; “I once indulged in cigars. But I found the use so offensive in others that I myself abandoned it in disgust. One sits down to converse with a person disguised as a gentleman, and suddenly a fume, as if from the essence of old tobacco-pipes, mixed with odors from stale brandy-bottles, poisons the innocent air, and almost knocks one down. It’s a mystery that ladies endure the nuisance of such breaths. My sensitive nose has made me an anti-rum, anti-tobacco man.” “But I fear me you’re a come-outer, Mr. Kenrick! Is it conservative to abuse tobacco and whiskey? No wonder you are unsound on the slavery question!” “Come up to the confessional, Mr. Vance! Admit that you’re as much of an antislavery man as I am.” “More, Mr. Kenrick! If I were not, I might be quite as imprudent as you. And then I should put a stop to my usefulness.” “You puzzle me, Mr. Vance.” “Not as much as you’ve puzzled _me_, my young friend. Come here, and look in the mirror with me.” Vance took him by the hand and led him to a full-length looking-glass. There they stood looking at their reflections. “What do you see?” asked Vance.