cab.

"This is terrible!" she murmured as we drove off.

"It might be worse," I replied, thinking of the probable long ride with
her: perhaps the last I should ever take!

"How could it be!"

I had nothing to offer, and subsided for a space.

"If we should not find him!"

"I'll sit on his front stoop all night.... Forgive me if I sound
flippant; but I mean it." Snow was in the air, and I considered it a
great sacrifice on my part to sit on a cold stone in the small morning
hours. It looks flippant in print, too, but I honestly meant it. "I am
sorry. You are in great trouble of some sort, I know; and there's
nothing in the world I would not do to save you from this trouble. Let
me take you home and continue the search alone. I'll find him if I have
to search the whole town."

"We shall continue the search together,"--wearily.

What had she written to this other fellow? _Did_ she love some one else
and was she afraid that I might learn who it was? My heart became as
lead in my bosom. I simply could not lose this charming creature. And
now, how was I ever to win her?

It was not far up town to the restaurant, and we made good time.

"Would you know him if you saw him?" she asked as we left the cab.

"Not the least doubt of it,"--confidently.

She sighed, and together we entered the restaurant. It was full of
theater-going people, music and the hum of voices. We must have created
a small sensation, wandering from table to table, from room to room, the
girl with a look of dread and weariness on her face, and I with the
Frenchman's hat grasped firmly in my hand and my brows scowling. If I
hadn't been in love it would have been a fine comedy. Once I surprised
her looking toward the corner table near the orchestra. How many joyous
Sunday dinners we had had there! Heigh-ho!

"Is that he?" she whispered, clutching my arm of a sudden, her gaze
directed to a near-by table.

I looked and shook my head.

"No; my Frenchman had a mustache and a goatee."

Her hand dropped listlessly. I confess to the thought that it must have
been very trying for her. What a plucky girl she was! She held me in
contempt, and yet she clung to me, patiently and unmurmuring. And I had
lost her!

"We may have to go down town.... No! as I live, there he is now!"

"Where?" There was half a sob in her throat.

"The table by the short flight of stairs ... the man just lighting the
cigarette. I'll go alone."

"But I can not stand here al