“That’s all right, Paul,” hastily. “I came to you for advice, and I know you will help me if you can. Please remember me to Judge and Mrs. Walbridge,” and speaking on other subjects, the two friends made their way to the front door, and Duncan started homeward. As Duncan motored slowly up Massachusetts Avenue he recognized a familiar figure coming toward him, and making a wide turning, faced his car in the direction Marjorie was going and quickly caught up with her. She was so absorbed in her thoughts that she had no idea of his presence until he called her by name. As his voice reached her, she started so violently that her hand-bag slipped from her fingers to the pavement, but before she could stoop to pick it up he was by her side. “Are you on your way to a luncheon?” he asked, straightening up and placing the bag in her extended hand. “Great heavens! What is the matter?” getting a full look at her tragic face. “Has anything happened to your aunt?” “No. Oh, no,” she replied hurriedly. “You startled me, coming up so quietly.” Duncan took her hand in his with an air of quiet authority. “Tell me, what is really the matter?” Marjorie steeled herself against the tender solicitude in his voice and gesture. What use to tell him of the scene in his father’s library? He also would take Janet’s word against hers. He would believe her a thief. In the silent watches of the past anxious nights, she had awakened to the realization that she had come to love Duncan with an adoration which passes understanding. It was her precious secret; he must never guess it. Her past affection for Chichester Barnard had been the shadow instead of the substance. Her endurance was almost at the breaking point; she could not face the loss of Duncan’s friendship, at least not then; nor see admiration change to contempt, and liking sink to loathing. With a muttered prayer for strength, she raised her eyes to Duncan’s. “If you must know the truth,” she said, “I’m suffering from a toothache--not a bit romantic, is it?” “Perhaps not,” sympathetically. “But I know from experience there’s no pain like it. If you are on your way to the dentist, can’t I take you there?” “He couldn’t see me until four o’clock this afternoon,” lying with trembling lips. “I am going to Aunt Yvonett’s to rest quietly until then.” “Let me drive you there,” pointing persuasively toward his roadster. Marjorie could think of no adequate excuse; after all it would be the quickest and easiest way to reach the shelter of her aunt’s house. “If it isn’t taking you out of your way----?” “Of course it isn’t,” heartily. “Mind that step,” and in a second more he was seated beside her, and the powerful car moved off down Massachusetts Avenue. “How do you like my new model?” patting the side of the motor. “I had an old one in San Francisco.” “The car moves very smoothly,” with well simulated interest. “Is she speedy?”