"Now, Jane," said Mrs. Belknap, producing a leather-covered account book, with a pretty air of importance, "I must have a little talk with you. What is your full name, please?" "Jane Evelyn Aubrey-Blythe," replied Jane distinctly. "My nobleness obliges me to be truthful and polite," she thought. Mrs. Belknap was surveying her with an incredulous smile. "Not _really_?" she said. "You found that name in a novel, didn't you?" "No, madam," said Jane coldly, "that is my full name." "Where did you work before you came to me?" went on Mrs. Belknap, with a pause of her busy pencil. Jane hesitated. Mrs. Belknap's clear eyes demanded instant answer, somewhat after the manner of a magistrate conducting a legal examination. Master Belknap, who was leaning upon his mother's knee in a complacently postprandial state, also centered his direct gaze upon the girl's face. "I--worked, that is, I was last employed by a--Mrs. Markle or--Madam Melbrun," faltered Jane, loudly clashing the cups in her confusion. "Be careful not to break the china, Jane," advised Mrs. Belknap, with housewifely care. "In what capacity were you employed by this Mrs. or Madam--what was the name?" "I don't know," confessed Jane, with desperate frankness. "She told me her name was Markle; afterwards she said it was Melbrun." Mrs. Belknap shook her head, as she again glanced seriously at the name with which she had just headed the clear, new page in her book of accounts. "I cannot understand," she said strongly, "why people should lie about their names, or, indeed, about anything. It is so much more _sensible_ to tell the truth. That is what I often tell Mary: '_Do_ tell me the truth, Mary,' I say to her. But I fear she never does." "What, never?" exclaimed Jane, unconsciously plagiarizing from a comic opera. "It is a habit, I fear," said Mrs. Belknap in a depressed tone, "telling falsehoods, I mean; some persons tell them when they might just as well tell the truth, even from their own standpoint. Of course," she added hastily, "it is always _right_ and _best_ to tell the exact truth. I hope, Jane, that _you_ are a _truthful_ girl. You will get on much better with _me_ if you are. Now what did you do for this person for whom you last worked?" "I smuggled," said Jane shortly. "You--_what_?" "Smuggled," repeated Jane; "I smuggled lace--five thousand dollars worth, the man said. Mrs. Markle sewed it in my jacket between the lining and the outside. But they found it and took it away." Mrs. Belknap looked actually frightened for a minute. "I--I don't believe it," she murmured weakly. "I didn't know Mrs. Markle put the lace there," Jane went on firmly. "She gave me a beautiful fur coat to wear on the ship, and asked me to leave my jacket in her stateroom. She sewed the lace in the jacket during the voyage." "You _look_ like a truthful girl," mused Mrs. Belknap. "But-- Then you have just come to America," she added shrewdly, "and you have no references, of course?"