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I'll see you at luncheon. Now. Miss Lane, bring those letters, and we will go over them. "
Richard, thus peremptorily dismissed, had no other recourse than to take up the machine, and make a speedy departure.
At the door he paused, however, to give a final lasting look, and in doing so he caught the girl's eyes squarely. That fleeting instant was like the brushing of their two young souls together.
Richard closed the door softly, with a feeling almost of awe, and, with a sigh, went down the hallway.
During the weeks that followed, Richard did find occasion, often, to employ the services of his father's secretary. But so matter-of-fact were these little transactions that the stern old man let them pass without notice, oftentimes leaving the two in the midst of them.
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One day, after Mr. Johns had gone out, Richard suddenly stopped his dictation. The girl looked up inquiringly, but immediately dropped her eyes when she saw what was in the young man's face.
"Miss Lane," he said, very softly.
This time she did not look up, but her heart saw him, and the vision set her hands trembling against the keys of her typewriter. Nor did she speak.
"Miss Lane," he repeated, almost pleadingly. The letter he held in his fingers fluttered to the floor, and, as tho it were a signal for action, he stepped forward and laid his hand gently on the girl's.
1 ' Dont ! Oh, you must not ! You must not ! ' ' There was neither acquiescence nor denial in her tone, only pleading. She gently drew her hand away.
"But, Miss Lane — Nell — you can guess?" The impetuous young man