“I can never rest night or day until I have seen this Bernardine and swept her from my path!” she cried.

She made up her mind that she would not tell her mother or Louisa just yet. It would worry her mother to discover that she had a rival, while Louisa—well, she was so envious of her, as it was, she might exult in the knowledge.

But how should she discover who this beautiful Bernardine was of whom he spoke with so much feeling?

Suddenly she stopped short and brought her two hands together, crying, excitedly:

“Eureka! I have found a way. I will follow up this scheme, and see what I can find out. Jay Gardiner will be out of the city for a few days. I will see his office attendant—he does not know me—and will never be able to recognize me again the way I shall disguise myself, and I will learn from him what young lady the doctor knows whose name begins with Bernardine. It is not an ordinary name, and he will be sure to remember it, I am confident, if he ever heard it mentioned.”

It was an easy matter for Sally to slip out of the house early the next day without attracting attention, although she was dressed in her gayest, most stunning gown.

Calling a passing cab, she entered it, and soon found herself standing before Jay Gardiner’s office, which she lost no time in entering.

A young and handsome man, who sat at a desk, deeply engrossed in a medical work, looked up with an expression of annoyance on his face at being interrupted; but when he beheld a most beautiful young lady standing on the threshold, his annoyance quickly vanished, and a bland smile lighted up his countenance. He bowed profoundly, and hastened to say:

“Is there anything I can do for you, miss?”

“I want to see Doctor Gardiner,” said Sally, in her sweetest, most silvery voice. “Are you the doctor?”

“No,” he answered, with a shadow of regret in his tone. “I am studying with Doctor Gardiner. He has been suddenly called out of the city. He may be gone a day, possibly a week. Is there anything I can do for you?”

“I fear not, sir. Still, I will tell you my errand, if I may be seated for a few moments.”

“Certainly,” he responded, placing a chair for his lovely young visitor; adding: “Pray pardon my seeming negligence in not asking you to be seated.”

Sally sunk gracefully into the chair the young physician watching her the while with admiring eyes.

“My call on Doctor Gardiner is not to secure his services in a professional capacity,” she began, hesitatingly; “but to learn from him the address of a young lady I am trying to find.”

“If it is any one who is his patient, or has been at any time, I think I can help you. He has the addresses down in a book.”

“But supposing he knew her socially, not professionally, her name would not be apt to be down on his list, would it?” she queried, anxiously.

“No,” he admitted. “But I think I know every one whom the doctor knows socially—every one, in fact, save the young lady—a Miss Pendleton, whom he is soon to marry. You see, we were college chums, and I have been his partner in office work over five years. So I will be most likely to know if you will state the name.”

“That is just the difficulty,” said Sally, with her most bewildering smile, which quite captivated the young doctor. “I met the young lady only once, and I have forgotten her address as well as her last name, remembering only her Christian name—Bernardine. I met her in Doctor Gardiner’s company only a few weeks ago. He would certainly recollect her name.”

“Undoubtedly,” declared the young physician. “I regret deeply that he is not here to give you the desired information.”

“Would you do me a favor if you could, sir?” asked Sally, with a glance from her eyes that brought every man she looked at in that way—save Jay Gardiner—to her dainty feet.

The young physician blushed to the very roots of his fair hair.

“You have only to name it, and if it is anything in my power, believe that I will do my utmost to accomplish it. I—I would do anything to—to please you.”

“I would like you to find out from Doctor Gardiner the address of Bernardine,” said Sally, in a low, tremulous voice; “only do not let him know that any one is interested in finding it out save yourself. Do you think you can help me?”

He pondered deeply for a moment, then his face brightened, as he said:

“I think I have hit upon a plan. I will write him, and say I have found the name Bernardine on a slip of paper which he has marked, ’Patients for prompt attention,’ the balance of the name being torn from the slip, and ask the address and full information as to who she is.”

“A capital idea!” exclaimed Sally, excitedly. “I—I congratulate you upon your shrewdness. If you find out this girl’s address, you will place me under everlasting obligations to you.”

“If you will call at this hour two days from now, I shall have the address,” he said, slowly.