"That's just it," said Griswold--"it's the woman who generally has the most to say as to how her house shall be built, and this man understands woman. I have reasons for believing he will certainly understand you!" "If he understands me well enough to give me all the linen-closets I want," said Aline, "he will be perfectly satisfactory." Before delivering his blow Griswold sank back into his corner of the car, drew his hat brim over his forehead, and fixed spying eyes upon the very lovely face of the girl he had asked to marry him. "His name," he said in fateful tones, "is Charles Cochran!" It was supposed to be a body blow; but, to his distress, Aline neither started nor turned pale. Neither, for trying to trick her, did she turn upon him in reproof and anger. Instead, with alert eyes, she continued to peer out of the window at the electric-light advertisements and her beloved Broadway. "Well?" demanded Griswold; his tone was hoarse and heavy with meaning. "Well what?" asked Aline pleasantly. "How," demanded Griswold, "do you like Charles Cochran for an architect?" "How should I know?" asked Aline. "I've not met him yet!" She had said it! And she had said it without the waver of one of her lovely eyelashes. No wonder the public already hailed her as a finished actress! Griswold felt that his worst fears were justified. She had lied to him. And, as he knew she had never before lied to him, that now she did so proved beyond hope of doubt that the reason for it was vital, imperative, and compelling. But of his suspicions Griswold gave no sign. He would not at once expose her. He had trapped her, but as yet she must not know that. He would wait until he had still further entangled her--until she could not escape; and then, with complete proof of her deceit, he would confront and overwhelm her. With this amiable purpose in mind he called early the next morning upon Post & Constant and asked to see Mr. Cochran. He wished, he said, to consult him about the new house. Post had not yet reached the office, and of Griswold's visit with Post to his house Cochran was still ignorant. He received Griswold most courteously. He felt that the man who was loved by the girl he also had long and hopelessly worshipped was deserving of the highest consideration. Griswold was less magnanimous. When he found his rival--for as such he beheld him--was of charming manners and gallant appearance he considered that fact an additional injury; but he concealed his resentment, for he was going to trap Cochran, too. He found the architect at work leaning over a drawing-board, and as they talked Cochran continued to stand. He was in his shirt-sleeves, which were rolled to his shoulders; and the breadth of those shoulders and the muscles of his sunburned arms were much in evidence. Griswold considered it a vulgar exhibition.