"Mr. Denby, shall I--" she began; then fell back in amazement. The man before her had leaped to his feet and started toward her, his face white like paper. "Good God!--_you!_" he exclaimed. The next instant he stopped short, the blood rushing back to his face. "Oh, _Miss Darling_! I--er--I thought, for a moment, you were-- _What a fool!_" With the last low muttered words he turned and sat down heavily. Betty, to whom the whole amazing sentence was distinctly audible, lifted demure eyes to his face. "I beg your pardon, you said--" The sentence came to a suggestive pause. Into Betty's demure eyes flashed an unmistakable twinkle. The man stared, frowned, then flushed a deeper red as full comprehension came. He gave a grim laugh. "I beg your pardon, Miss Darling. That epithet was meant for me--not you." He hesitated, his eyes still searching her face. "Strange--strange!" he muttered then; "but I wonder what made you suddenly look so much like-- Take off your hat, please," he directed abruptly. "There!" he exclaimed triumphantly, as Betty pulled out the pins and lifted the hat from her head, "that explains it--your hat! Before, when I first saw you, your eyes reminded me of--of some one, and with your hat on the likeness is much more striking. For a moment I was actually fool enough to think--and I forgot she must be twice your age now, too," he finished under his breath. Betty waited a silent minute at the door; then, apparently still unnoticed, she turned and left the room, pinning her hat on again in the hall. To her mother that afternoon she carried a jubilant countenance. "Well, mother, he's alive! I've found out that much," she announced merrily. "He? Who?" "Mr. Burke Denby, to be sure." "Alive! Why, Betty, what do you mean?" "He's alive--like folks," twinkled Betty. "He's got memory, a heart, and I _think_ a sense of humor. I'm sure he did laugh a little over calling me a fool." "A fool! Child, what have you done now?" moaned Betty's mother. "Nothing, dear, nothing--but put on my hat," chuckled Betty irrepressibly. "Listen, and I'll tell you." And she drew a vivid picture of the scene in the library. "There, what did I tell you?" she demanded in conclusion. "Did I do anything but put on my hat?" "Oh, but Betty, you mustn't, you can't--that is, you must-- I mean, _please_ be careful!" On Helen's face joy and terror were fighting a battle royal.