advertisement, and I couldn't bear to see it. If it hadn't been
for that I would never have thought of Fenwick for a name, and
all this trouble would have been averted.

One evening, when I was moping in my room, Nancy came up.

"There's a gentleman in the parlor asking for you, Miss
Charlotte."

My heart gave just one horrible bounce.

"What--sort of a gentleman, Nancy?" I faltered.

"I think it's that Fenwick man that there's been such a time
about," said Nancy, who didn't know anything about my imaginary
escapades, "and he looks to be mad clean through about something,
for such a scowl I never seen."

"Tell him I'll be down directly, Nancy," I said quite calmly.

As soon as Nancy had clumped downstairs again I put on my lace
fichu and put two hankies in my belt, for I thought I'd probably
need more than one. Then I hunted up an old _Advocate_ for
proof, and down I went to the parlor. I know exactly how a
criminal feels going to execution, and I've been opposed to
capital punishment ever since.

I opened the parlor door and went in, carefully closing it behind
me, for Nancy has a deplorable habit of listening in the hall.
Then my legs gave out completely, and I couldn't have walked