1111

CSIRJUSTIN MET HER IN THE ROW.”

| ady Maclure in her boudoir, nor the: butler in his pantry, nor Sir Justin O'Byrne in- his rooms in St James’s. Mro Gregory kept an open mind against everybody and everything, He even doubted the parroty; and had views as to the intervention of rats and terriers. Persis got rather tived at last of his perverse ingenuity especially as she had o very shrewd idea hersell who o had stolen the rubies. When he sugeested various doubts, however, which scemed remotely to impheate Sir Justin's honesty, the sensitive American airl “felt it go on her nerves,” and refused to listen to him, though Mr. Gregory never ceased to enforce upon her, by precept and example, his own pet doctrine that the last person on carth one would be hikely tosus- peet is always the one who turns out to have donce 1t.

A morning or two later, Persis looked out of her window as she was dressing her hair She dressed it herself now, though she was

an American heiress, and, therclore, of

STRAND

JAGALINT.

the Tazest ol her kimd @ for she had taken an unaccountable dis- like, somcehow, o that quict gird Bertha, On this particular mornme, however, whoen Porsis lookad out, she saw Dertha on- caged moclose, and apparently very Intimate, Conversa- tonwith the fHamp- stead postian. This stiehtdisturhed the unstable cqui- lhrium of her equa- nimity not a hitte, Why should Bertha ago to the door to the postman at all ? Surcly 1t was no part of the duty of Tady Maclure's maid to take mothe letters ! And why should she want to go pry- g intotheoquestion ol who wrote to Miss Remanet? I'or Pcersis, in- tensely conselous hersell that a note from S Justin iy on top of the postman’s bundleshe recognised 1t at onee, even at that - tance below, by the peeuliar shape of the broad rough cnvelope - jumped to the natural feminine conclusion that Bertha must needs Lhe influenced by some abstruse motive of which she hersclf, Persis, was, to say the very least, a component clement. s a human fallacy. Were all of us prone to sce everything from a personal standpomt indeed, the one quality which akes aman or woman into a possible novelist, good, bad, or indifferent, is just that special power ol throwing himself or herself mto a0 wreat many people’s personalities alternately. And this is o power possessed on anaverage by not one in a thousand men or not one 1 ten thousand women.

Persis rang the bell violenthy, Bertha caime up, all smiles: “ Did you want anvthing, miss 2”7 Persis could have choked her,

• Yes, " she answered, plainly, taking the bull

Ly the horns: 1 want to know what you

COUTSC,