offering to Mrs. Minchin, like the nosegay of hothouse flowers which she
still held in her hand. Rachel herself had inadvertently taken the very
easy-chair which was a further feature of the recess; in its cushioned
depths she already felt at a needless disadvantage, with Mr. Steel
bending over her, his strong face bearing down, as it were, upon hers,
and his black eyes riddling her with penetrating glances. But to have
risen now would have been to show him what she felt. So she trifled with
his flowers without looking up, though her eyebrows rose a little on
their own account.

"I know what you are thinking," resumed Steel; "that you had no desire
to assume any new identity, or for a single moment to conceal your own,
and that I have taken a great deal upon myself. That I most freely
admit. And I think you will forgive me when you see the papers!"

"Is there so much about me, then?" asked Rachel, with a sigh of
apprehension.

"A leading article in every one of them. But they will keep. Indeed, I
would much rather you never saw them at all."

"Was that why you brought them in, Mr. Steel?"

The question was irresistible, its satire unconcealed; but Steel's
disregard of it steered admirably clear of contempt.

"That was why I bought them, certainly," he admitted. "But I brought
them with me for quite a different purpose, for which one would indeed
have been enough. I was saying, however, that the best way to sink one's
identity is to assume another, provided that the second be as