ngway affected gruffness.

"I am thanking God fervently, ma'am," said he, "that you didn't ask me
for more. You'll have to give me your note. By the way, are you of age?"

Her charming eyes narrowed, and she laughed at him.

"People," she said, "are already beginning to say, 'she will hardly
marry now.' But it's how old we feel, Mr. Hemingway, isn't it?"

"I feel about seven," said he, "and foolish at that."

"And I," said she, "will be twenty-five for the second time on my next
birthday."

"And, by the way," she said, when the details of the loan had been
arranged and she had stuffed the five thousand dollars into the palm of
a wash glove, "nobody must know about this, because I shall have to say
that--my gewgaws have been stolen."

"But that will give Aiken a black eye," said he.

"I'm afraid it can't be helped, Mr. Hemingway. Papa will ask point-blank
why I never wear the pearls he gave me, and I shall have to anticipate."

"How?" he asked.

"Oh," she said demurely, "to-night or to-morrow night I shall rouse the
household with screams, and claim that I woke and saw a man bending over
my dressing-table--a man with a beautiful white mustache and imperial."

Mr. Hemingway's right hand flew to his mouth as if to hide these
well-ordered appendages, and he laughed.

"Is the truth nothing to you?" he said.

"In a business matter pure and simple," she said, after a moment's
reflection, "it is nothing--absolutely nothing."

"Not being found out by one's parents is hardly a business matter,"
said Mr. Hemingway.

"Oh," said she with a shiver, "as a little girl I went into the hands of
a receiver at least once a month----"

"A hand of iron in a velvet glove," murmured Mr. Hemingway.

"Oh, no," she said, "a leather slipper in a nervous hand.... But how can
I thank you?"

She rose, still demure and cool, but with a strong sparkling in her eyes
as from a difficult matter successfully adjusted.

"You could make the burglar a clean-shaven man," Mr. Hemingway
suggested.

"I will," she said. "I will make him look like anybody you say."

"God forbid," said he. "I have no enemies. But, seriously, Miss Tennant,
if you possibly can, will you do without a burglary, for the good name
of Aiken?"

"I will do what I can," she said, "but I can't make promises."

When she had gone, one of the directors pushed open the door of Mr.
Hemingway's office and tiptoed in.

"Well," said he, "for an old graybeard! You've been