Her mouth dry, she made her feet walk on, not daring to utter a word. She arrived about nine o’clock the next evening in a state of tremulous enthusiasm. She stole a few glances at John as she stood and played the pieces. Why? While the front of his mind was busy warning her not to fall into the hopeless miseries of underpaid teaching, and explaining his idea that for women of initiative, quite as much as for men, the world of business had by far the best chances, the back chambers of his brain were busy with the problem of that “Why?” His first idea as a man of the world was to explain her unrest by a lover, some secret or forbidden or impossible lover. Terror had laid a paralyzing hand upon her, fear kept her almost unconscious of the curious glances which she was continually attracting. She left for good after he fell asleep. This one too she read. "Yes, sir," said McClintock, as he sat down; "that's South Sea stuff, that yarn of yours.
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