w people; we know very
little about them, after all." Nothing was further from Mrs. Anderson
than the surmise that, even had she called, no invitation would have
come from these unknown new people to the village grocer and his
mother. Mrs. Anderson, even with her secret and persistent dissent to
her son's giving up his profession and adopting trade, never dreamed
of any possible loss of social prestige. She considered herself and
her son established in their family traditions beyond possibility of
shaking by such minor matters. Anderson did not enlighten her.

"Mrs. Monroe said that she had heard that the Carrolls were owing a
good deal," said she, presently. "She said she heard that Blumenfeldt
said he must have cash for the flowers for the decorations. They have
ordered a great many palms and things. She said she heard that
Captain Carroll told him that the money would be forthcoming, and
scared him out of his wits, he was so high and mighty, and the
florist just gave right in and said he should have all he wanted. She
said Mr. Monroe was in there and heard it. I hope Mrs. Griggs will
get her pay. They don't owe you, I hope, dear?"

"Don't worry about me, mother?" Randolph replied, smiling. However,
she had placed a finger upon a daily perplexity of his. The Carrolls
indeed owed him, and every day the debt was increasing. He felt that
his old clerk regarded him with wonder at every fresh entry on the
books. That very day he had come into the office to inform him, in a
hushed voice, that the Carrolls had sent for a pail of lard and a box
of butter, besides a bag of flour, and to inquire what he should do
about supplying them.

"The girl hasn't brought any money," said he, further, in an ominous
whisper.

Anderson, glancing out, saw the small, sturdy, and smiling face of
the Hungarian girl employed by the Carrolls. She was gazing straight
through at him in the office with a shrewd expression in her
untutored black eyes. "Send the order," Anderson replied, in a low
voice.

"But," began the clerk.

"It's all right," said Anderson. He dipped his pen in the ink and
went on with the letter he was writing. The clerk retreated with a
long, anxious, wondering look, which the other man felt.

The Hungarian girl plodded smiling forth with the promise to have the
groceries sent at once. Stepping flat-footedly and heavily through
the door, she caught her cotton skirt on a nail, and, lo! a rent. The
boy, who was a gallant