“No,” said Gretel; “I am only visiting here. I live in New York, with my brother and his wife. You remember my half-brother, Percy Douaine, who was in China when Father died. He came home the next year, and took me to live with him. It was all quite like a Cinderella story, for I wasn’t very happy with Mrs. Marsh and her daughter, and Percy made everything so wonderful and beautiful for me. Now he is married to one of the dearest women in the world, and I am just as happy as I can be--or would be if it were not for this terrible war.” “Oh, yes, the war; the war has changed many things,” said Fritz Lippheim, with a sigh. “I am sometimes glad to think the little Mother did not live to see these sad days. I suppose you are quite an American now.” “Oh, yes,” said Gretel; “we are all good Americans, of course. But I am afraid I mustn’t stand talking any longer. My friend may be looking for me. Can’t we meet again somewhere?” Fritz Lippheim shook his head. “I fear not,” he said. “War changes many things, as I said before. My business here is of rather a private nature, and--may I ask a favor of you, little Gretel?” “Certainly,” said Gretel, her face falling. “I will do anything I can for you, Fritz, for the sake of the dear old days.” “It is merely that you will not mention to any of your friends that you have met me. We may meet again in happier times, when I can explain, but at present I cannot say any more.” Gretel’s heart gave a great bound of fear, and then sank down, down like lead. She hoped her old friend would not notice how startled she was. “I won’t tell any one,” she said in a low, embarrassed voice. “I’m sorry I spoke to you, if you didn’t want to be recognized, but I had no idea----” Gretel paused abruptly, fearing the man would hear the tremor in her voice. Fritz Lippheim caught her hand impulsively. “It isn’t that I am not pleased to see you, Gretel,” he said earnestly. “Indeed, I am glad to find my little friend again, and to know that she has not forgotten me, but there are reasons, important reasons, which I cannot explain at present. Will you try to believe that, Gretel, and not think too unkindly of poor old Fritz?” His voice was so kind, and his smile reminded her so strongly of the old friend of her childhood that Gretel’s face brightened. “All right, Fritz,” she said in a very different tone. “Now, I must hurry, or Mrs. Chester will be waiting for me.” “Good-bye, little girl, and if we meet again here, or anywhere, you will remember that we do not know each other?” Gretel nodded; she could not trust herself to speak, and in another moment she was hurrying back to the main street in quest of Mrs. Chester. Mrs. Chester had finished her shopping, and was already in the car, chatting with Jimmy Fairfax, who stood on the curb. “Oh, I’m afraid I have kept you waiting!” apologized Gretel, rather breathlessly. “I just went round the corner for a minute, and didn’t see you come out of the market.”