“I hate to have you leave me, Zizi,” Mrs Varian answered, “but if it means a chance, why take it. Get back as soon as you can, I’ve grown to depend on you for all my help and cheer.” So Zizi packed her bag and departed. With her she took a letter that she had abstracted from a drawer of Minna Varian’s writing-desk. She had taken it without leave, indeed without the owner’s knowledge, but she felt the end justified the means. “If indeed the end amounts to anything,” Zizi thought, a little ruefully. Once started on her journey, it seemed like a wilder goose chase than it had at first appeared. The route, the little, ill-appointed New England railroad, took her inland into the state of Maine, and then westward, until she was in the green hills and valleys of Vermont. It was when the conductor sung out “Greenvale” that Zizi, her journey ended, alighted from the train. She found a rickety old conveyance known as a buckboard and asked the indifferent driver thereof if she might be conveyed to any inn or hostelry that Greenvale might boast. Still taciturn, the lanky youth that held the horse told her to “get in.” Zizi got in, and was transported to a small inn that was not half so bad as she had feared. She paid her charioteer, and as he set her bag down for her on the porch, she went into the first room, which seemed to be the office. “Can I have a room for a day or two?” she asked. “Sure,” said the affable clerk, looking at her with undisguised admiration. Zizi smiled at him, quite completing his subjugation, for she wished to be friendly in order to get all the help she could on her mission. She registered, and then said, “Greenvale is a lovely place. How large is it?” “’Most three thousand,” said the clerk, proudly. “Gained a lot of late.” “Do you have many visitors in the summer?” “Lots; and we’ve got a noted one here right now.” “Who?” “Nobody less than—why, here he comes now!” and Zizi looked toward the door, and just entering, she saw,—Pennington Wise! CHAPTER XVI In Greenvale “For the love of Mike, Zizi, what are you doing here?” exclaimed Pennington Wise, nearly struck dumb with astonishment at sight of the girl. “I ask you that!” she returned, looking at him with equal amazement. “Well, anyway, I’m glad to see you;” he smiled at her with real pleasure. “I’ve had a long, horrid and most unsatisfactory quest for the elusive L. N. and I haven’t found him yet.” “Any hope of it?” “Nothing but. I mean no expectation or certainty,—but always hope. Now, what’s your lay? _Why_,—Zizi, tell me _why_ you’re here, or I’ll fly off the handle!” “Well, wait till we can sit down somewhere and talk comfortably. I haven’t had a room assigned to me yet.” “But tell me this: you’re here on the Varian case?” “Yes, of course. Are you?” “I am. Oh, girl, there must be something doing when we’re here from different starting points and for different reasons!”