As Francois Valois trudged along the night streets toward his rooming house his heart was plunged in sorrow and suspicion.

To be discharged from a comfortable position for no apparent reason when one contemplated no sweet alliance was bad enough, but to be discharged when one planned marriage to so charming a creature as Josette La Baum was nothing short of a blow.

Josette herself had admitted that and promptly turned Francois's hazards as to young Cavendish's motives into smouldering suspicion, which he dared not voice.

Now, as he paused before a delicatessen window realising that unless he soon obtained another position its dainties would be denied him, these same suspicions assailed him again.
Disheartened, he turned from the pane and was about to move away, when he came face to face with a trim young woman in a smart blue serge.
"Oh, hello!" she cried pleasantly, bringing up short.

Then seeing the puzzled look upon the valet's face, she said: "Don't you remember me?
I'm Miss Donovan of the _Star_.