He shook his head and turned away. "Very well," said I to myself, "then I will." Accordingly the next day I called upon Mrs. Walworth. Taking her by the hand, I gently forced her to stand for a moment where the light from the one window fell full upon her face. I said: "You must pardon my intrusion upon you at a time when you are naturally so busy, but there is something you can do for me that will rid me of a great anxiety. You remember being in ---- Hotel one morning last month?" She was looking quietly up at me, her lips parted, her eyes smiling and expectant, but at the mention of that hotel I thought--and yet I may have been mistaken--that a slight change took place in her expression, if it was only that the glance grew more gentle and the smile more marked. But her voice when she answered was the same as that with which she had uttered her greeting. "I do not remember," she replied, "yet I may have been there; I go to so many places. Why do you ask?" she inquired. "Because if you were there on that morning--and I have been told you were--you may be able to solve a question that is greatly perplexing me." Still the same gentle, inquiring look on her face; only now there was a little furrow of wonder or interest between the eyes. "I had business in that hotel on that morning," I continued. "I had left a letter for a young friend of mine in the Bible that lies on the small table of the inner parlor, and as she never received it I have been driven into making all kinds of inquiries in the hope of finding some explanation of the fact. As you were there at the time you may have seen something that would aid me. Is it not possible, Mrs. Walworth?" Her smile, which had faded, reappeared. On the lips which Taylor so much admired a little pout became visible, and she looked quite enchanting. "I do not even remember being at that hotel at all," she protested. "Did Mr. Taylor say I was there?" she inquired, with just that added look of exquisite naeivete which the utterance of a lover's name should call up on the face of a prospective bride. "No," I answered gravely; "Mr. Taylor, unhappily, was not with you that morning." She looked startled. "Unhappily," she repeated. "What do you mean by that word?" And she drew back looking very much displeased. I had expected this, and so was not thrown off my guard. "I mean," I proceeded calmly, "that if you had had such a companion with you on that morning I should now be able to put my questions to him, instead of taking your time and interrupting your affairs by my importunities." "You will tell me just what you mean," said she, earnestly.