s, but now she glanced
about, noted Olive, and seemed uneasy.

"I'm afraid I'm nothing so interesting," he said; "but I have wanted
to see new places and new things--and I've more or less seen 'em. When
I've got tired of one town, I've simply up and beat it, and when I got
there--wherever there was--I've looked for a job. And----Well, I
haven't lost anything by it."

"Have you really? That's the most wonderful thing to do in the world.
My travels have been Cook's tours, with our own little Thomas Cook
_and_ Son right in the family--I've never even had the mad freedom of
choosing between a tour of the Irish bogs and an educational
pilgrimage to the shrines of celebrated brewers. My people have always
chosen for me. But I've wanted----One doesn't merely _go_ without
having an objective, or an excuse for going, I suppose."

"I do," declared Carl. "But----May I be honest?"

"Yes."

Intimacy was about them. They were two travelers from a far land, come
together in the midst of strangers.

"I speak of myself as globe-trotting," said Carl. "I have been. But
for a good many weeks I've been here in New York, knowing scarcely any
one, and restless, yet I haven't felt like hiking off, because I was
sick for a time, and because a chap that was going to Brazil with me
died suddenly."

"To Brazil? Exploring?"

"Yes--just a stab at it, pure amateur.... I'm not at all sure I'm just
making-believe when I speak of blue bowls and so on. Tell me. In the
West, one would speak of 'seeing the girls home.' How would one say
that gracefully in New-Yorkese, so that I might have the chance to
beguile Miss Olive Dunleavy and Miss Ruth Winslow into letting me see
them home?"

"Really, we're not a bit afraid to go home alone."

"I won't tease, but----May I come to your house for tea, some time?"

She hesitated. It came out with a rush. "Yes. Do come up. N-next
Sunday, if you'd like."

She bobbed her head to Olive and rose.

"And the address?" he insisted.

"---- West Ninety-second Street.... Good night. I have enjoyed the
blue bowl."

Carl made his decent devoirs to his hostess and tramped up-town
through the flying snow, swinging his stick like an orchestra
conductor, and whistling a waltz.

As he reached home he thought again of his sordid parting with Gertie
in the Park--years ago, that afternoon. But the thought had to wait in
the anteroom of his mind while he rejoiced over the fact that he was
to see his new playmate the