side Fifth Avenue and then at the grim figures of the human wolves
and reptiles that crawled into the Square from below Fourth Street, and
wondered what might happen if they should really meet. But to-day he
gazed with unseeing eyes. There was on all the earth no poverty, no
crime, no shame, no despair, no pain, no conflict. The splendour of the
sunset was in his soul and the world was athrob with joy.

His reveries were broken by a timid knock on the door and a faint call:

"Jim!"

"Come in!" he cried.

"You're not a bit glad to see me," the soft voice said. "I've been
standing out there for ages!"

"Forgive me, Sunshine, I must have been dreaming," Stuart pleaded,
leaping from his seat and seizing her hand. "I'm awfully glad to see
you!"

"Then, don't call me that name again," she pouted.

"Why not?"

"Because it's undignified. All nicknames are."

"But isn't it beautiful?"

"It would be if my hair wasn't red and I didn't have freckles and was
older," she protested, looking away to hide her emotion.

"But your hair isn't quite red. It's just the colour of the gold in
honeycomb," he answered, gently touching her dishevelled locks--"besides,
those few little freckles are becoming on your pink and white skin--and
you are nearly fifteen."

"Well, my hair is red enough to make me think you're teasing when you
call me Sunshine," she replied demurely.

"Then I won't call you that any more. I'll just say, little pal--how's
that?"

"That's better!" she said with a smile and sigh.

"Oh, Jim, I've been so dreadfully lonely since you were away! Where did
you go? And why did you stay so long? And why didn't you write me more
than one little letter? And why didn't you answer the one I wrote in
reply?--You know I'm almost an orphan anyhow. Papa spends nearly all
his time at the factory, the drug store, the dispensary, and visiting
his patients. I declare, Jim, I'll die if you go away again. I just
can't stand it." She dropped at last into a chair exhausted.

Stuart smilingly took her hand:

"Lonely, Miss Chatterbox--when that big father of yours worships the
very ground you walk on!"

"Yes, I know he does, Jim, and I love him, too, but you've no idea how
dreadfully still the house is when you are gone. Oh, say! I'll tell you
what I want--tell me you'll do what I ask--promise me! Say you will!"

"What is it?"

"I want you to be a real boarder, and eat with us! And when Papa's
gone, I'll sit at the head of t