ar hat still remains
a mystery. I have had to buy a new one.)

So the boy had put a letter of his sister's in the band of the hat, I
mused. How like _her_ kid brother! It seemed that more or less families
had Toddy-One-Boys to look after. Pshaw! what a muddle because a man
couldn't keep his thoughts from wool-gathering!

Well, here I had two hats, neither of which was mine. I could, at a
pinch, wear the opera-hat, as it was the exact size of the one I had
lost. But what was to be done with the Frenchman's?... Fool that I was!
I rushed over to the table. The Frenchman had left his card, and I had
forgotten all about it. And I hadn't asked the benevolent old gentleman
where he lived. The Frenchman's card read: "M. de Beausire, No. ----
Washington Place." I decided to go myself to the address, state the
matter to Monsieur de Beausire, and rescue the letter. I knew all about
these Toddy-One-Boys, and I might be doing some girl a signal service.

I looked at my watch. It was closing on to ten. So I reluctantly got
into my coat again, drew on a topcoat, and put on the hat that fitted
me. Probably the girl had been writing some fortunate fellow a
love-letter. No gentleman will ever overlook a chance to do a favor for
a young girl in distress. I had scarcely drawn my stick from the
umbrella-jar when the bell rang once again.

"Hello!" I called down the tube. Why couldn't they let me be?

"Lady wants to see you, sir."

"A lady!"

"Yes, sir. A real lady; l-a-d-y. She says she's come to see the
gentleman in number six about a plug hat. What's the graft, anyway?"

"A plug hat!"

"Yes, sir; a plug hat. She seems a bit anxious. Shall I send her up?
She's a peach."

"Yes, send her up," I answered feebly enough.

And now there was a woman in the case! I wiped the perspiration from my
brow and wondered what I should say to her. A woman.... By Jove! the
sister of the mischievous boy! Old Chittenden must have told her where
he had gone, and as he hasn't shown up, she's worried. It must be a
tremendously important letter to cause all this hubbub. So I laid aside
my hat and waited, tugging and gnawing at my mustache.... Had the Girl
acted reasonably I shouldn't have gone to Martin's that night.

How easy it is for a woman to hurt the man she knows I is in love with
her! And the Girl had hurt me more than I was willing to confess even to
myself. She had implied that I had carelessly broken an engagement.

Soon there came a ge