," she said firmly. "I won't have it."

Freckles could not have told how he felt, neither could anyone else. His
blood rioted and his head swam, but he kept his wits. He bent over her.

"Please don't, Angel," he said softly. "You don't understand."

How Freckles came to understand was a problem.

"It's this," he persisted. "If your father met me on the street, in
my station and dress, with you on me arm, he'd have every right to be
caning me before the people, and not a finger would I lift to stay him."

The Angel's eyes snapped. "If you think my father cares about my doing
anything that is right and kind, and that makes me happy to do--why,
then you completely failed in reading my father, and I'll ask him and
just show you."

She dropped Freckles' arm and turned toward the entrance to the
building. "Why, look there!" she exclaimed.

Her father stood in a big window fronting the street, a bundle of papers
in his hand, interestedly watching the little scene, with eyes that
comprehended quite as thoroughly as if he had heard every word. The
Angel caught his glance and made a despairing little gesture toward
Freckles. The Man of Affairs answered her with a look of infinite
tenderness. He nodded his head and waved the papers in the direction she
had indicated, and the veriest dolt could have read the words his lips
formed: "Take him along!"

A sudden trembling seized Freckles. At sight of the Angel's father he
had stepped back as far from her as he could, leaned the wheel against
him, and snatched off his hat.

The Angel turned on him with triumphing eyes.

She was highly strung and not accustomed to being thwarted. "Did You see
that?" she demanded. "Now are you satisfied? Will you come, or must I
call a policeman to bring you?"

Freckles went. There was nothing else to do. Guiding his wheel, he
walked down the street beside her. On every hand she was kept busy
giving and receiving the cheeriest greetings. She walked into the
parlors exactly as if she owned them. A clerk came hurrying to meet her.

"There's a table vacant beside a window where it is cool. I'll save it
for you," and he started back.

"Please not," said the Angel. "I've taken this man unawares, when
he's in a rush. I'm afraid if we sit down we'll take too much time and
afterward he will blame me."

She walked to the fountain, and a long row of people stared with all the
varying degrees of insolence and curiosity that Freckles had felt they
wo