he homeliest man I had ever seen, do you know that?"

Glover fingered his offending chin and looked at her somewhat
pathetically.

"But last night"--her quick mouth was so eloquent--"last night I
watched you. I saw your face lighted by the anger of the storm. I
knew then what those heavy, homely lines below your eyes were
for--strength. And I saw your eyes, to me so dull at first, wake and
fill with such a light and burn so steadily hour after hour that I knew
I had never seen eyes like yours. I knew you would save me--that is
what made me so brave, goosie. Sit right where you are, please."

She slipped out of her chair; he pursued. "If you will say such things
and then run into the dark corners," he muttered. But when Solomon
appeared with a water-pitcher they were ready for him.

"Now what has kept you all this time?" glared Glover, insincerely.

"I couldn't find any ice-water."

"Ice-water!"

"Every pipe is froze solid, but I chopped up some ice and brought that."

"Ice-water, you double-dyed idiot! Go get your candle."

"Yes, sir."

"Don't be so cross," whispered Gertrude. "You were so short with that
poor fireman to-night, and he told me such a pitiful story about being
ordered out and having to go or lose his position----"

"Did Foley tell you that?"

"Yes."

"Surely, nerve runs in his family as well as his cousin's. The rascal
came because I hung up a little purse for a fireman at the roundhouse,
and he nearly had a fight with another fellow that wanted to cut him
out of the job."

"Such a cheat! How much did you offer him?"

"Not very much."

"But how much?"

"Twenty-five dollars, and, by heavens, he dunned me for it just after
we started."

"But his poor wife hung to his neck when he left----"

"No doubt. She has pulled all the hair out of his head twice that I
know of----"

"And I gave him my purse with all the money I had in it."

"How much?"

"About three hundred dollars."

"Three hundred dollars! Foley will lay off two months and take the
whole family back to Pittsburg. Now, here's your candle and chopped
ice and Mr. Battershawl."

Gertrude turned for a last whisper--"What should you say if papa came
down?"

"What should I say? He would probably say, 'Mr. Glover, I have your
room.' 'Don't mention it,' I should reply, 'I have your daughter.'"
But Mr. Brock did not come down.

Barely half an hour later, while Glover waited with anxiety at the foot
of the st