ing nice now--that a
long holiday has improved me!"

She managed to put a shaking hand into his, wondering if she betrayed
her thoughts. Being as tall as Steve she was able to look at him, not
up at him; and there they stood--the handsome, reckless man with just
a suggestion of nervous tension in his Irish blue eyes, and the plain
young woman in a rumpled linen blouse.

"Ah--so I don't please," he bantered. "Well, tell us all about it.
I've a thousand questions--my father-in-law says you are the only
thing I have that he covets. How about that?" He led the way into his
office, Mary following.

Then he fell upon his mountain of mail and memoranda, demands for this
charity and that patriotic subscription, and Mary began a careful
explanation of affairs and they sat talking and arguing until the
general superintendent looked in to suggest that the shop might like
to have Mr. O'Valley say hello.

"It's nearly eleven," Steve exclaimed, "and we haven't begun to say a
tenth of all there is to discuss. See the funeral piece, Hodges? Why
didn't you label it 'Rest in pieces' and be done with it, eh? I shall
now appear to make a formal speech." Here he cut a rosebud from the
big wreath and handed it gravely to Mary; he cut a second one and
fastened it in his own buttonhole. "Lead me out, Hodges. I'm a bit
unsteady--been playing too long."

Mary stood in the doorway, one hand caressing the little rose. That
Beatrice should have had the flower was her first thought. Then it
occurred to her that Beatrice would have all the flowers at the formal
affairs to be given the bridal couple, besides sitting opposite Steve
at his own table. She no longer felt that she had stolen the rose or
usurped attention. There was a clapping of hands and the usual
laughter which accompanies listening to any generous proprietor's
speech, a trifle forced perhaps but very jolly sounding. Then Steve
returned to his office to become engrossed in conversation with Mary
until Mark Constantine dropped in to bowl him off to the club for
luncheon.

"She's kept things humming, hasn't she?" Constantine asked, sinking
into the nearest chair.

"A prize," Steve said, proudly. "I don't find a slip-up any place.
I'll be back at two, Miss Faithful, in case any one calls.... How is
Bea?" His voice softened noticeably.

Mary slipped away.

"Bea doesn't like one half of her things and the other half are so
much better than the apartment that she says they don't s