embarrassed attention
was the look in the dark eyes. They seemed to have almost the same
disturbing quality which he had noticed in his grandfather's gray ones.
Her mouth was very proper and grave, but her eyes looked as if she were
laughing at him.

Now to be laughed at by an attractive young lady is disturbing and
unpleasant. It is particularly so when the laughter is from the
provinces and the laughee--so to speak--a dignified and sophisticated
city man. Albert summoned the said dignity and sophistication to his
rescue, knocked the ashes from his cigarette and said, haughtily:

"I beg your pardon?"

"Is Mr. Keeler here?" repeated the girl.

"No, he is out."

"Will he be back soon, do you think?"

Recollections of Mr. Price's recent remark concerning the missing
bookkeeper's "good start" came to Albert's mind and he smiled, slightly.
"I should say not," he observed, with delicate irony.

"Is Issy--I mean Mr. Price, busy?"

"He's out in the yard there somewhere, I believe. Would you like to have
me call him?"

"Why, yes--if you please--sir."

The "sir" was flattering, if it was sincere. He glanced at her. The
expression of the mouth was as grave as ever, but he was still uncertain
about those eyes. However, he was disposed to give her the benefit of
the doubt, so, stepping to the side door of the office--that leading to
the yards--he opened it and shouted: "Price! . . . Hey, Price!"

There was no answer, although he could hear Issachar's voice and another
above the rattle of lath bundles.

"Price!" he shouted, again. "Pri-i-ce!"

The rattling ceased. Then, in the middle distance, above a pile of
"two by fours," appeared Issachar's head, the features agitated and the
forehead bedewed with the moisture of honest toil.

"Huh?" yelled Issy. "What's the matter? Be you hollerin' to me?"

"Yes. There's some one here wants to see you."

"Hey?"

"I say there's some one here who wants to see you."

"What for?"

"I don't know."

"Well, find out, can't ye? I'm busy."

Was that a laugh which Albert heard behind him? He turned around, but
the young lady's face wore the same grave, even demure, expression.

"What do you want to see him for?" he asked.

"I wanted to buy something."

"She wants to buy something," repeated Albert, shouting.

"Hey?"

"She wants to--BUY--something." It was humiliating to have to scream in
this way.

"Buy? Buy what?"

"What do you want to buy?"

"A hook, that's all.