is woman stood.

"Another eve bent in constant watchfulness upon us," I inwardly
commented. "We are quite surrounded. The house should certainly hold
treasure to warrant all this interest. But what could this one-time
domestic know of the missing bonds?"

"An old-fashioned doorway," I remarked. "It is the only one of the kind
on the whole street. It makes the house conspicuous, but in a way I
like. I don't wonder you enjoy looking at it. To me such a house and
such a doorway suggest mystery and a romantic past. If the place is not
haunted--and only a fool believes in ghosts--something strange must
have happened there or I should never have the nervous feeling I have in
going about the halls and up and down the stairways. Did you never have
that feeling?"

"Never. I'm not given to feelings. I live one day after another and just
wait."

Not given to feelings! With such eyes in such a face! You should have
looked down when you said that, Bess; I might have believed you then.

"Wait?" I softly repeated. "Wait for what? For fortune to enter your
little shop-door?"

"No, for my husband to come back," was her unexpected answer, uttered
grimly enough to have frightened that husband away again, had he been
fortunate or unfortunate enough to hear her. "I'm a married woman, Miss,
and shouldn't be working like this. And I won't be always; my man'll
come back and make a lady of me again. It's that I'm waiting for."

Here a customer came in. Naturally I drew back, for our faces were
nearly touching.

"Don't go," she pleaded, catching me by the sleeve and turning
astonishingly pale for one ordinarily so ruddy. "I want to ask a favor
of you. Come into my little room behind. You won't regret it." This last
in an emphatic whisper.

Amazed at the turn which the conversation had taken and congratulating
myself greatly upon my success in insuring her immediate confidence, I
slipped through the opening she made for me between the tables serving
for a counter and followed her into a room at the rear, which from its
appearance answered the triple purpose of sleeping-room, parlor and
kitchen.

"Pardon my impertinence," said she, as she carefully closed the door
behind us. "It's not my habit to make friends with strangers, but
I've taken a fancy to you and think you can be trusted. Will--" she
hesitated, then burst out, "will you do something for me?"

"If I can," I smiled.

"How long do you expect to stay over there?"

"Oh, th