As they stepped into the trolley Pearson bought an evening paper, not
the _Planet_, but a dignified sheet which shunned sensationalism
and devoted much space to the doings of the safe, sane, and
ultra-respectable element. Perceiving that his companion, for some
reason, did not care to talk, he read as the car moved downtown.
Suddenly Captain Elisha was awakened from his reverie by hearing his
friend utter an exclamation. Looking up, the captain saw that he was
leaning back in the seat, the paper lying unheeded in his lap.

"What's the matter?" asked the older man, anxiously.

Pearson started, glanced quickly at his friend, hesitated, and looked
down again.

"Nothing--now," he answered, brusquely. "We get out here. Come."

He rose, picked up the paper with a hand that shook a little, and led
the way to the door of the car. Captain Elisha followed, and they
strode up the deserted side street. Pearson walked so rapidly that
his companion was hard pushed to keep pace with him. When they stood
together in the dimly lit hall of the boarding house, the captain spoke
again.

"Well, Jim," he asked in a low tone, "what is it? You may as well tell
me. Maybe I can guess, anyhow."

The young man reached up and turned the gas full on. In spite of the
cold from which they had just come, his face was white. He folded the
paper in his hand, and with his forefinger pointed to its uppermost
page.

"There it is," he said. "Read it."

Captain Elisha took the paper, drew his spectacle case from his pocket,
adjusted his glasses and read. The item was among those under the head
of "Personal and Social." It was what he expected. "The engagement
is to-day announced of Miss Caroline Warren, daughter of the late A.
Rodgers Warren, the well-known broker, to Mr. Malcolm Corcoran Dunn, of
Fifth Avenue. Miss Warren, it will be remembered, was one of the most
charming of our season-before-last's debutantes and--" etc.

The captain read the brief item through.

"Yes," he said, slowly, "I see."

Pearson looked at him in amazement.

"You _see_!" he repeated. "You--Why! _Did you know it_?"

"I've been afraid of it for some time. To-night, when you left me alone
there in the quarter-deck of that opera house, I happened to hear two
young chaps talkin' about it. So you might say I knew--Yes."

"Good heavens! and you can stand there and--What are you going to do
about it?"

"I don't know--yet."

"Are you going to permit her to marry that--