“Your introduction is certainly promising, Trixy, dear,” remarked Dorothy with the same languid interest, “but it’s rather lengthy. Remember, long introductions to romances have been out of fashion since the days of our great-grandmothers. Wouldn’t it be well to begin your story?” “I don’t know just how to begin it,” answered Beatrice ingenuously, “it’s so interesting. But,” she added suddenly, “you’re quite sure you meant what you told me the other day?” “Told you the other day?” inquired Dorothy, puzzled; “told you about what?” “About your not caring anything for him, of course?” “And who may ‘_him_’ be?” asked Dorothy, with an ever so slight change of voice. “Why, Captain Mortimer, of course!” “Oh!” exclaimed Dorothy, her face flushing slightly, “of course not. How silly you are, Trixy!” “Well,” replied Beatrice, “I thought I’d make quite sure, you know. Dear old papa says I’m always blundering into things without first making proper inquiry, so I thought I’d make quite sure in this case. I wonder who it can be, though?” “Who what can be?” “Never mind!” retorted Beatrice; “listen to my story first, and we can then put our heads together and try to guess who the _she_ is.” “Oh!” exclaimed Dorothy, slightly arching her eyebrows, “you have really decided to begin, then?” “Stop, Dorothy,” protested Beatrice, “don’t tease me! You’ll drive some of it out of my head and I don’t want to forget anything. Let me see; where shall I begin? Oh, yes! Well; after I left you I went for a stroll in the park. It was such a beautiful day; the smell of the flowers and the grasses was so sweet that I kept on and on almost to the end of the Queen’s Walk. Presently I felt tired and looked about me for a place to rest. I saw a seat some little distance away and I kept on until I reached it and there I sat down. Do you follow me, Dorothy?” “I find no difficulty in doing so thus far, Trixy,” answered Dorothy, with a smile. “Consider that I’ve followed you to the seat at the end of the Queen’s Walk.” “I hadn’t been there more than a few minutes,” resumed Beatrice, “when I noticed, around a bend in the path, two officers approaching. Who do you think they were?” “Remember, Trixy,” answered Dorothy, “you are supposed to be telling a story--not propounding riddles!” “Why, Captain Swords and Captain Mortimer, Dorothy!” “Indeed!” remarked Dorothy very quietly. “Yes. They were talking together and they didn’t see me. What do you think I did, Dorothy?” “Now you are asking a riddle, Trixy,” replied Dorothy. “You waited until they came up, I suppose, and then monopolized their attention during the rest of the promenade!” “All wrong--all wrong!” cried Beatrice gayly; “nothing of the kind! Right back of my seat was a big tree, or bush--as high as this room and half as big around. Watching them closely and being quite sure they hadn’t seen me, I crept around to the back of that bush and hid.”