"Oh, sorry that you thought you had met me?"

Dick protested to some length with much unnecessary earnestness, and
at last suggested that they find seats. Miss Goodrich agreed, and
leading the way to an adjoining room, discovered a cushioned corner
near the window. "Do you know," she said, when they were seated, "I,
too, feel as you do?"

"About the ice-cream?" retorted Dick.

"No," she laughed, "about having met you before."

"Indeed, I am glad."

"Glad?"

"Yes, that you feel as I do."

"Truly," she said, ignoring his reply, "you _do_ remind me of someone
I have seen somewhere. Oh, I know; it's that tramp printer of Mr.
Udell's, I--Why, what is the matter, Mr. Falkner? Are you sick? Let
me call someone."

"No, no," gasped Dick. "I'll be all right in a moment. It's my heart.
Please don't worry." He caught up a basket of pictures. "Here, let's
look at these. I find nothing that has a more quieting effect than the
things one finds on the center tables of our American homes."

Amy looked uneasy but began turning over the pictures in the basket.
There were some commonplace photos of commonplace people, a number of