y. He
ushered them in with a bow.

Mr. Gilroy was writing, and it was a second before he glanced up. His
eyes widened with astonishment--the clerk had delivered the message
verbatim. He leaned back in his chair and studied the ladies from head
to foot, then emitted a curt:

"Well?"

There was not a trace of recognition in his glance.

Patty's only intention had been to announce their identity, and invite
him to deliver them at St. Ursula's door, but Patty was incapable of
approaching any matter by the direct route when a labyrinth was also
available. She drew a deep breath, and to Conny's consternation, plunged
into the labyrinth.

"You Mr. Laurence K. Gilroy?" she dropped a curtsy. "I come find-a you."

"So I see," said Mr. Laurence K. Gilroy, dryly. "And now that you've
found me, what do you want?"

"I want tell-a your fortune," Patty glibly dropped into the lingo she
and Conny had practised on the school the night before. "You cross-a my
hand with silver--I tell-a your fortune."

This was no situation of Conny's choosing, but she was always staunchly
game.

"Nice-a fortune," she backed Patty up. "Tall young lady. Ver'
beautiful."

"Well, of all the nerve!"

Mr. Gilroy leaned back in his chair and regarded them severely, but with
a gleam of amusement flickering through.

"Where did you get my name?" he demanded.

Patty waved her hand airily toward the open window and the distant
horizon--as it showed between the coal sheds and the dynamo building.

"Gypsy peoples, dey learn signs," she explained lucidly. "Sky, wind,
clouds--all talk--but you no understand. I get message for you--Mr.
Laurence K. Gilroy--and we come from long-a way off to tell-a your
fortune." With a pathetic little gesture, she indicated their damaged
foot gear. "Ver' tired. We travel far."

Mr. Gilroy put his hand in his pocket and produced two silver half
dollars.

"Here's your money. Now be honest! What sort of a bunco game is this?
And where in thunder did you get my name?"

They pocketed the money, dropped two more curtsies, and evaded
inconvenient questions.

"We tell-a your fortune," said Conny, with business-like directness. She
brought out the pack of cards, plumped herself cross-legged on the
floor, and dealt them out in a wide circle. Patty seized the gentleman's
hand in her two coffee-stained little paws, and turned it palm up for
inspection. He made an embarrassed effort to draw away, but she clung
with the tenaci