able to find out that you did anything but
put your heels on one and your fingers on the other."

"That's because you aren't there to see."

"No; but I have heard. Do you ever work, really work?"

"Of course I work. I earn the jam to eat on my daily bread. I boxed the
devil's ears, this morning."

"Luther _redivivus_! You and Beatrix will soon be great moral forces in
the metropolis. Beatrix, is he really presentable?"

"Bobby, or the devil?"

"Neither. Mr. Th--"

"Mr. Thayer," the old butler announced imperturbably, and the subject of
discussion came slowly across the great dusky room towards the circle
of light around the table.

Even while she was suppressing her gasp of sheer embarrassment, Sally
admitted to herself that he was presentable, very presentable. His
manner was altogether free from the self-conscious graciousness of an
artist off-duty; moreover, he was very big, very comely, very much
stamped with the hall-mark of her own class. His eyes were steady; his
shoulders were broad, but his hands were slim. As for Sally Van Osdel,
she had one attribute of a great general; she knew how to beat a
dignified retreat from an awkward situation, and she it was who broke in
upon the little pause which followed the introductions.

"Your entrance was most dramatic, Mr. Thayer, for your name was just
trembling upon our lips. Miss Dane has been asking us if we knew your
accompanist, Mr. Arlt."

He turned to Beatrix.

"Otto? What about him, Miss Dane?"

"Only good. Miss Gannion was speaking to me about him, last night."

"You know Miss Gannion?"

"Who doesn't?"

He laughed silently from between his close-shut teeth.

"That can be interpreted in two senses."

"Not if you know Miss Gannion. She is of the salt of the earth."

"I am glad to hear you say so. She is the one person in the city to whom
I brought an introduction. She was out when I called, so I am still a
good deal at sea in regard to her."

A direct question would have been unpardonable; but Beatrix could see no
offence in the note of interrogation in his voice.

"She is a dear little spinster of fifty, with endless interests and not
a hobby to her name, the most downright, practical person I have ever
known, and the most helpful to strangers and pilgrims in the city. It is
quite incidental that she is uncommonly rich and uncommonly homely.
Nobody ever stops to think about either fact."

"And she has heard of Arlt?"

"Yes, she hears of