"Next time give me a little more benefit of the doubt, my dear. _I never told Gail anything_!" When John told you anything it was so. That was all there was to _that_. She gave a gasp of blessed relief. "But--" she protested. "But Gail knew----" He sat down on the step below her. "But Gail didn't know anything! Gail never will know anything. Nobody ever will but you and I and Phyllis Harrington, who is much safer than a church. But it did take a certain amount of diplomacy to extract from Gail exactly what she said to you that frightened you into another state--or rather what she meant by it." He was smiling now. Could it possibly be---- "I went to Gail as soon as Phyllis had called me up and had had it out with me--which, I may add, she did rather severely," he went on calmly, though he still held one hand as if he was afraid Joy would vanish again. "And Gail said----" He stopped provokingly, and Joy held her breath. "Well, I won't torment you, though I am inclined to think you deserve it. It appears that Gail had learned from that friend of hers, Laura Ward, to whom she had spoken of you and your people, that you posed as a model for a couple of artists, just before you left this city, in order to earn money for gowns. The girl lived in the same studio building with them ... their name was Morrow, I think. She was under the impression that you were a professional model till the Morrows explained, and you had struck her as such a very good type that she remembered you and the whole episode. Gail was teasing you about it, as she teases every one. She has a provocative, half-mocking manner that she lets go too far sometimes. I'm not inclined to forgive her for tormenting my little girl." Joy gave a long sigh of relief. "Then--you're not engaged to Gail?" He gave the hands he held a little half-impatient, half-loving shake. "Would I have asked you to marry me under those circumstances?" "You never asked me to marry you," said Joy in a subdued voice. She felt as if the world were coming down around her ears. "I was a trial fiancée, and a good deal of a trial at that, as you said. And--you only did it to oblige me, and--and I'm very much obliged and--and hadn't you better go?" If he stayed much longer---- His voice, that had been light, became more tender and more serious.