doing the best I can with it."

They were in good spirits now, and for the rest of the evening were as
loverlike as always, the nearer together for the bit of rough sea they
had weathered so nicely. Neither spoke of Miss Hallowell. Each had
privately resolved never to speak of her to the other again. Josephine
was already regretting the frankness that had led her to expose a not
too attractive part of herself--and to exaggerate in his eyes the
importance of a really insignificant chit of a typewriter. When he went
to bed that night he was resolved to have Tetlow find Miss Hallowell a
job in another office.

"She certainly _is_ uncanny," he said to himself. "I wonder why--I wonder
what the secret of her is. She's the first woman I ever ran across who
had a real secret. _Is_ it real? I wonder."




V


Toward noon the following day Norman, suddenly in need of a
stenographer, sent out for Miss Purdy, one of the three experts at
eighteen dollars a week who did most of the important and very
confidential work for the heads of the firm. When his door opened again
he saw not Miss Purdy but Miss Hallowell.

"Miss Purdy is sick to-day," said she. "Mr. Tetlow wishes to know if I
would do."