“It is not a very easy thing to explain,” said the other, “that is, it is easy enough, but—­”

“Oh,” said Roberta, catching the reason of her companion’s hesitation, “I don’t think you ought to object to tell me your reason.  Does it relate to your cousin Junius?”

“Well,” said Annie, “not altogether, and not so much to him as to my aunt.”  “I think I see,” said Roberta.  “A marriage between you two would suit her very well.  Are you afraid that she would try to force him on you?”

“Oh, no;” said Annie, “that would be bad enough, but it would not be so embarrassing, and so dreadfully unpleasant, as forcing me on him, and that is what aunt wants to do.  And you can easily see that, in that case, I could not stay in this house at all.  I scarcely know my cousin as a man, my strongest recollection of him being that of a big and very nice boy, who used to climb up in the apple-trees to get me apples, and then come down to the very lowest branch where he could drop the ripest ones right into my apron, and not bruise them.  But, even if I had been acquainted with him all these years, and liked him ever so much, I couldn’t stay here and have aunt make him take me, whether he wanted to, or not.  And, unless you knew my aunt very well, you could not conceive how unscrupulously straightforward she is in carrying out her plans.”

“And so,” said Roberta, “you have quite baffled her by this little ruse of a marriage.”

“Not altogether,” said Annie with a smile, “for she vows she is going to get me divorced from Mr Null.”

“That is funnier than the rest of it,” said Roberta, laughing.  And they both laughed together, but in a subdued way, so as not to attract the attention of the old lady below stairs.  “And now, you see,” said Annie, “why I must be Mrs Null while I stay here.  And you will promise me that you will never tell any one?”

“You may be sure I shall keep your queer secret.  But have you not told it to any one but me?”

“Yes,” said Annie, “but I have only told it to one other, Mr Croft.  But please don’t speak of it to him.”

“Mr Croft!” exclaimed Roberta.  “How in the world did you come to tell him?  Do you know him so well as that?”

“Well,” said Annie, “it does seem out of the way, I admit, that I should tell him, but I can’t give you the whole story of how I came to do it.  It wouldn’t interest you—­at least, it would, but I oughtn’t to tell it.  It is a twisty sort of thing.”

“Twisty?” said Roberta, drawing herself up, and a little away from her companion.

Annie looked up, and caught the glance by which this word was accompanied, and the tone in which it was spoken went straight to her soul.  “Now,” said she, “if you are going to look at me, and speak in that way, I’ll tell you every bit of it.”  And she did tell the whole story, from her first meeting with Mr Croft in the Information Shop, down to the present moment.