cigars without a
coherent idea in his head as to what was being said or considered.
When he rushed back to the office Mary had gone home and left a note
tucked in his blotter. He did not know that Beatrice had dropped in
and discovered it, reading it with great satisfaction and carefully
replacing it so as to have the appearance of never having been
disturbed. All it said was:

"I shall go to the Meldrum Brothers on the fifteenth.--M. F."

He tore the note up in a despairing kind of rage and wrote Mary as
impetuous a love letter as the Gorgeous Girl had ever received. Five
minutes after writing it he tore that up, too. Then he called himself
several kinds of a fool and dashed out to order an armful of flowers
sent to her apartment. He had his supper in a grill room, to give him
a necessary interlude before he went home. He walked round and round a
city square watching the queer, shuffling old men with their trays of
needles and pins, wrinkled-faced women with fortune-telling parrots,
and silly young things prancing up and down, bent on mischief.
Something about human beings bored him; he regretted exceedingly that
he was one himself; and at the same tune he wished he might
countermand the florist's order. He took a taxi home and wondered what
apology he should make for being late. He had forgotten that there was
a dinner party!

In silver gauze with an impressive square train Beatrice greeted him,
to say he might as well remain invisible the rest of the evening, it
would look too absurd to have him appear an hour late with some clumsy
excuse--and as there was an interesting Englishman who made an
acceptable partner for her everything was taken care of. Papa, minus
the professional reader, was lonesome. He had discovered an intricate
complaint of his circulation and would welcome an audience.

With relief Steve stole away to Constantine's room and amid medicine
bottles and boxes, air cushions, hot-water bags, and detective
stories, he listened with half an ear to the reasons why his blood
count must be taken again and what horse thieves the best of doctors
were anyhow!

CHAPTER XIX

The fifteenth of December Mary Faithful left the office of the
O'Valley Leather Company, carrying the thing off as successfully as
Beatrice O'Valley carried off her wildest flirtation. As Mary had
often said: "When you can fool the letter man and the charwoman you
have nothing to fear from the secret service."

And no employ