t of making him hold on
all the more tenaciously. He did his work conscientiously, and--with
his lips a little more tightly set than was his custom--kept his own
counsel.

He had no alternative. His new work gave him little opportunity to
talk with Miss Winthrop, and she was the one person in the world in
whom he felt he could confide safely and at length. She herself was
very busy. Mr. Seagraves, having accidentally discovered her ability,
was now employing her more and more in his private office.

It was about this time that a lot of petty outside matters came up,
further to vex him. Up to this point Don's wardrobe had held out
fairly well; but it was a fact that he needed a new business suit, and
a number of tailors were thoughtfully reminding him that, with March
approaching, it was high time he began to consider seriously his
spring and summer outfit. Until now such details had given him
scarcely more concern than the question of food in his daily life.
Some three or four times a year, at any convenient opportunity, he
strolled into his tailor's and examined samples at his leisure. Always
recognizing at sight just what he wanted, no great mental strain was
involved. He had merely to wave his cigarette toward any pleasing
cloth, mention the number of buttons desired on coat and waistcoat,
and the matter was practically done.

But when Graustein & Company announced to him their new spring
importations, and he dropped in there one morning on his way
downtown, he recognized the present necessity of considering the item
of cost. It was distinctly a disturbing and embarrassing necessity,
which Mr. Graustein did nothing to soften. He looked his surprise when
Don, in as casual a fashion as possible, inquired:--

"What will you charge for making up this?"

"But you have long had an account with us!" he exclaimed. "Here is
something here, Mr. Pendleton,--an exclusive weave."

"No," answered Don firmly; "I don't want that. But this other--you
said you'd make that for how much?"

Graustein appeared injured. He waved his hand carelessly.

"Eighty dollars," he replied. "You really need two more, and I'll make
the three for two hundred."

"Thanks. I will tell you when to go ahead."

"We like to have plenty of time on your work, Mr. Pendleton," said
Graustein.

Two hundred dollars! Once upon the street again, Don caught his
breath. His bill at Graustein's had often amounted to three times
that, but it had not then c