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 her at last, "but you don't look it a bit." He awaited reply from her, but she disappointed him; she thought he had no letters! "You look like a girl laying her lace and linen in her hope chest instead of shop-sheets in a drawer. How is the hope chest?"

"I haven't one," denied Ellen, fluttering.

"How about the hopes?"

"None," said Ellen. Ordinarily she would have ignored him; but she did not, under the sway of the excitement which had seized her and was increasing visibly—for Lew saw it.

"Really?" he asked, hunching his chair closer to her.

At that, she deserted the desk; she would not have him nearer; but, also contrarily, she would! The excitement working in her stimulated him and he enjoyed it; she was stimulated by it. Yes; amazingly, she was; it was a sensation of power—a power over Lew Alban who, in other ways, held Mr. Rountree and Jay and her in his power. She had something Lew liked and wanted.

It was what Di had had which had given Di power. Here had been Di, an office girl, working with her hands and head, accomplishing nothing; but Di had put to use the power of her femininity and by it Di had torn away, or certainly helped to tear away, the half million dollars of Mettens.

Ellen, working here with her hands and head, was helpless, almost, as Di had been; with her hands and head, never could she hold, against his hatred of the Rountrees, Lew Alban; but if she put to use her femininity!

She slipped through the door into her own little room