Dick, who was devoted to his fair young mistress, saw that something was the matter with her, for her face was still pale, and had the door open for her by the time she reached the coupé. She was securely shut within it before the man who had accosted her could make his way out of the store. “Home! home! as quickly as you can!” panted Salome, as she sank back among the cushions, but not before she had caught a glimpse of a leering face and a pair of triumphant eyes that had been keen enough to spot her before she could get out of sight. Salome would have been even more disturbed if she had known that her meeting with this strange man had been observed by Evelyn Winthrop. But such was the case. Her attention had first been attracted by the resonant tone in which he had addressed Salome, and turning, she had been startled by the sight of the girl’s pallid face. She drew a little back, so as not to be seen by her, and watched and listened. She understood at once that this man was acquainted with Salome’s past life; that this unexpected encounter terrified her, for some reason; and she determined to avail herself of this discovery, to learn, if possible, the history of her brother’s wife. There was evidently some secret connected with her past which she was very anxious to preserve; her home, too, had been, she judged, in some distant portion of the country, and the girl, for some reason, had fled from it, and was terrified and dismayed to meet one whom she had formerly known. She followed the man as he followed Salome, and when he turned back again, after having watched her carriage out of sight, she quietly remarked: “So you are acquainted with that person, sir. Will you be kind enough to tell me her name?” “Well, now,” he shrewdly returned, as he eyed his fair questioner from head to foot, “perhaps she might have some objections to my giving you the information you desire.” “Why?” Evelyn demanded, with more eagerness than she was aware of. “Hum! well, for one reason, as you heard me tell her, she’s a good ways from home, and—for certain other reasons—perhaps she isn’t known down here in New York by the same name she was in—well, when she was at home with her folks.” Evelyn flushed; she had not supposed that the man knew she had been watching them, but it was evident he did. “But I particularly wish to know who she is; perhaps I could make it an object to you to tell me,” she returned, as she glanced down at the costly and well-filled purse in her hand. “Perhaps you could,” he answered placidly but indifferently, following her glance, “maybe you could tell me where the lady lives, she appears to be pretty well fixed, judging from the carriage that she popped into so suddenly and the pretty ring she had on.”