almost golden; and her misty hair was like a cloud about her face, and her black eyes so soft, so limpid.

“Jimmy!” she whispered. “Do I look nice?”

“Er—yes; very nice,” Ross answered stiffly.

She came close to him, put her hand on his shoulder.

“Please, Jimmy!” she said, earnestly. “I do so awfully want to be happy—just for a little while!”

Ross had a moment of weakness. She was so young, so lovely; it seemed important, even necessary, that she should be happy. But he valiantly resisted the spell.

“Who doesn’t?” he inquired.

“Jimmy, dear!” she said. “I’m coming to the garage after dinner—to ask you something—to beg you to do something. Will you do it, my dear little Jimmy?”

“I’ll have to hear what it is first,” said Ross.

But she seemed satisfied.

X

Ross went up to the room over the garage, and sat down there. He was hungry and tired, and in no pleasant humor.

“It’s entirely too damned much!” he said to himself. “I’m—comparatively speaking—a rich man. There’s money waiting for me. There’s a nice, comfortable room in a hotel waiting for me; and decent clothes. I could have gone to a play tonight. There was one I wanted to see. And here I am—in a garage—dressed up like a monkey. No, it’s too much! I’m going back to the city tomorrow. I’m going to see Teagle, and settle my affairs. If Amy wants me to help her, I suppose I shall. But I won’t stay here, and I won’t be a chauffeur.”

The more he thought of all this, the more exasperated he became. And it was nearly nine o’clock before he was summoned to dinner, which did not tend to placate him. In spite of his hunger, he took his time in going over to the house. He had no objection to being late, and he would have no objection to hearing some one complain about it. Indeed, he wished that some one would complain. Just one word.

Looking for trouble, Ross was, when he entered the house. He pushed open the swing door of the kitchen.

What 

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