"Well," said her visitor, with resignation, "go ahead, Miss Portia." "I wish to know all about what happened in the Guardian while Mr. Gunterson was in charge," said Helen, simply. And finally, with a few evasions which were immediately detected and some omissions which were possibly suspected, Smith told the story of the decline of the Guardian. "So Mr. Gunterson left," commented the girl, when all was said. "What happened then?" "Why, that's substantially all, to date," returned the New Yorker, dishonestly; "except that I've been sent up here to see what I can do to improve our position in Boston." "Ah! Who sent you? Who is in charge of the Guardian now?" continued Miss Maitland, calmly. "Mr. Wintermuth, of course," replied her victim. "And under Mr. Wintermuth? Has no one been elected to fill Mr. Gunterson's place?" "Well, you see, Mr. Gunterson only resigned a few days ago. Boards of directors don't as a rule move very rapidly. There hasn't really been a great deal of time." "Who has been elected to fill Mr. Gunterson's place?" "Are you under the impression that--?" "Do you wish me to say it again? Who has been elected Vice-President of the Guardian?" "A man," said her visitor slowly, "by the name of Smith." Helen leaned back in her chair in mock exhaustion. "That was certainly awfully difficult," she said, with a little laugh of triumph. "I thought you would never admit it." "I suppose you'd have found it out sometime, anyway," Smith said philosophically. "No, you're wrong," his companion denied, "for the very good and simple reason that I already knew it." "You knew it! And yet you put me through this cross-examination?" Helen nodded complacently. "Uncle Silas told me this afternoon." "But how did he know? No announcement has been made." "Mr. Wintermuth wrote him." "Well," said Smith, "no ring master with a long, cracking whip ever made a reluctant poodle jump through a series of hoops in a more professional manner than you put me through my little story." "Yes," said Helen, demurely. Then, growing suddenly more serious, she said, "And won't you let me congratulate you, Mr. Vice-President?" "I will," said Smith. "There is no one I know by whom I would rather be congratulated." He took in his own her offered hand, and for just a moment an enchanted silence abode in the room. Then, with no effort on Smith's part to detain her, Helen withdrew her hand. "Now I can tell you about Uncle Silas and Charlie Wilkinson," she said. "And both are so interesting as topics that I hardly know where to begin." "Begin with Mr. Osgood, please," her visitor suggested.