added, "that my mother has taken a great fancy to you, and that it will not suit her at all if you are niggardly in your visits." Constance smiled acquiescingly. "I love your mother," she said, "and it will be a pleasure to me to come as often as she wishes." At the same instant she said to herself, "Now for it!" Whereupon she began sturdily, "Only, Mr. Perry----" Why did she pause? She was at a loss to know. It was the reverse of her custom to begin a sentence and leave it dangling in this unfinished manner. She accused herself of being a goose, and, simultaneously she took a new breath to go on, only to be met by her companion's blithe sally: "Only what, Mrs. Stuart?" She could see that his eyes were laughing. Did he divine what was choking her? "Only this: if I come to your mother, you must let me go home by myself. The electric cars are a stone's throw from your house, and run close to mine, so there is not the slightest necessity for your incommoding yourself." She paused, troubled. The last turn of the sentence, though it expressed her meaning, had not the felicitous sound she desired. "I came because I knew it would give me pleasure," he answered, quickly, still with a laughing light in his eyes, under which she let her own fall quite unnecessarily, as it seemed to her. She was provoked with herself. The dialogue had acquired the aspect of social give and take, which was entirely remote from her intention. "I have enjoyed it, too." She felt that this was the least she could say. "But there is no need; besides, Mr. Perry, you are my employer, and--and--" (she was halting again, but she bit her lip and plunged forward, seeking only to make herself clear) "that does make a difference--it should make a difference. If I were--if I were not your stenographer, I should probably go home in a carriage, but I can't afford one, and--and the cars are perfectly safe and comfortable. I am used to looking after myself." Her cheeks were burning. She had said what she meant to say, but it sounded crude and almost harsh. She wondered now why it had seemed necessary to her to make such a pother. As no immediate answer came from Mr. Perry, she stole a glance at his face. It had grown almost grave, and there was a different light in his eyes--a curious expression which puzzled her. "I hope you understand," she said, "and that I do not seem ungracious."