his face toward
Warrington. The smile he gave was kindly. "Yes, true happiness can be
sought only in those we love. There is happiness even in loving some
one who does not love you." Bennington repressed a sigh. "But, Dick,
you'll be the best man?"

"Depend upon me. What do you say to this day week for breakfast here?"

"That will be wholly agreeable to me."

Bennington's cigar had gone out. He leaned upon the desk and took his
light from the chimney. Men who have traveled widely never waste
matches.

"Can't you bunk here for the night? There's plenty of room," said
Warrington.

"Impossible, Dick. I leave at midnight for home. I must be there
to-morrow morning. I'm afraid of trouble in the shops. The unions are
determined to push me to the limit of my patience."

"Why the deuce don't you get rid of the shops?"

"They're the handiwork of my father, and I'm proud to follow his
steps." Bennington's eyes were no longer at peace; they sparkled with
defiance. "Half-past ten!" suddenly. "I must be going. My luggage is
still at the hotel. God bless you, Dick!"

Their hands met once again.

"You know, jack, that I love you best of all men."

"You are sure there is no woman?"

Warrington laughed easily. "Ah, if there was a woman! I expect to be
lonely some day."

Bennington put on his hat and gloves, and Warrington followed him into
the hall. Once the prospective bridegroom paused, as if he had left
something unsaid; but he seemed to think the better of silence, and
went on.

"Tuesday morning, then?"

"Tuesday morning. Good night."

"Good night, and luck attend you."

The door closed, and Warrington went slowly back to his desk, his mind
filled with pleasant recollections of youth. He re-read the letter,
studied it thoroughly, in hopes that there might be an anagram. There
was nothing he could see, and he put it away, rather annoyed. He
arranged the sheets and notes of the scenario, marshaled the scattered
pencils, and was putting the glasses on the tray, when a sound in the
doorway caused him to lift his head. One of the glasses tumbled over
and rolled across the desk, leaving a trail of water which found its
level among the ash-trays.

"It is quite evident that you forgot me," said the woman, a faint
mirthless smile stirring her lips. "It was very close in there, and I
could hear nothing." She placed a hand on her forehead, swayed, and
closed her eyes for a second.

"You are faint!" he cried, springing