Miss Kendrick was not long in discovering this suppressed hostility; and at first alarmed by it, she presently found it a source of amusement. Then she appeared to derive a certain pleasure in blowing the smoldering coals into a blaze; for she would, with the most innocent air imaginable, bring forward topics of discussion that served to range us in hostile argument. As we held opposite views on almost every question of politics, law, sociology, and the arts, she had usually more difficulty to close the argument than to inspire it. Yet she handled the situation with a skill that would have been the admiration of a diplomat, and had a tact in diversion that enabled us both to retire from the heat of battle in good order with the conviction that we had each won a substantial victory. In the anxious days through which the Chinese girl’s life hung by a thread, I learned that Laura Kendrick’s characterization of Mercy Fillmore was no example of feminine exaggeration. Miss Fillmore proved to be a young woman of about twenty-five, a little above the average height, a little fuller in outline than was demanded by the rules of proportion, a little slow in her movements. Her face was round, and though lacking in color gave a distinct impression of prettiness. But her chief characteristic was a certain calm sweetness in expression and manner, a certain gentle tact that made her presence as soothing as a strain of sweet music. It was on the evening following the rescue that Miss Kendrick introduced us. "I am glad to meet you," she said in a voice that was low and melodious. "I am glad to find a man who is not afraid to do the right thing because somebody is going to laugh at him." Miss Fillmore gave me her hand, and I found that her touch had the same soothing quality that was manifest in her voice and presence. I professed myself gratified at her approval, and murmured that any one would have done the same in the circumstances. "No, indeed," said Miss Fillmore earnestly. "It isn’t every one who would have followed Mr. Baldwin to that den and risked his life to rescue a poor Chinese slave girl." Mr. Baldwin’s part in the affair had evidently lost nothing in Mr. Baldwin’s telling of it, and Miss Fillmore’s imagination had filled out the blanks in his narrative in a way to make him the promoter of the enterprise. He was quick to see the peril of his situation, and said stiffly: "Oh, if there’s any credit to the affair, it belongs to Mr. Hampden alone. He discovered the distressed damsel, and is entitled to all the rewards." Laura Kendrick gave him a pleased look and a gracious nod, which afflicted me with a pang of unwarranted resentment. "I claim all the credit myself," she said, with a little air of importance. "I seem to remember two rather reluctant knights who were anything but pleased to be sent out to storm the ogre’s castle at the call of beauty in distress."