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"I—I beg your pardon," he stammered, consternation making it difficult for him to speak. "I was expecting quite another person—Leslie Wilkinson."

Too frightened to reply the girl merely stood and gazed at him. For a moment she remained thus, and then, with the shudder of one who shakes from her some horrible nightmare, she found her voice and said:

"Why, I'm Miss Wilkinson—Leslie Wilkinson!"

Ilingsworth could hardly believe his ears.

"You—you are Leslie Wilkinson!" he broke out. "Surely there must be some mistake. Leslie is a man's name, isn't it?"

It was a mere wisp of a girl who confronted him

The girl struggled to regain her composure. Dumbfounded and confused though he was, Ilingsworth saw this, and with a hasty movement thrust the revolver behind his back. And still facing her, he retreated to a small table at the far corner of the room, and leaned against it, thus concealing the weapon. In a measure this action of his reassured the girl. Her countenance broke into a tremulous smile, though her breast rose and fell tumultuously and her breath came in gasps.