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 A riding habit is extremely becoming to some women.

I do not know why it had not occurred to me that I should be asked to forward that letter, for of course nothing could be more natural. But the possibility had not entered my head, and as I walked back to the hotel with the thing in my pocket I did not feel at all easy in my mind. Somehow when the letters were coming in due course of mail, addressed to that well-known personage, Lilian Leslie Lamb, I had handed them over to John without the least compunction—even the occasional ones from Miss Lamb. To all intents and purposes he was Miss Lamb, for the letters were intended for the author of Spoils.

Now, however, the case was quite different, as anybody must see. As I thought of it I grew hot and cold, and cursed my own idiocy for deliberately setting such a trap for myself. I was in such a muddle over the whole thing by the time I got to the hotel that I decided not to say any-