tion
he judged it best to keep in touch with this young man, and he forthwith
invited Bles to accompany him the next night to the Fifteenth Street
Presbyterian Church.

"You'll find the best people there," he said; "the aristocracy. The
Treble Clef gives a concert, and everybody that's anybody will be
there."

They met again the following evening and proceeded to the church. It was
a simple but pleasant auditorium, nearly filled with well-dressed
people. During the programme Bles applauded vociferously every number
that pleased him, which is to say, every one--and stamped his feet,
until he realized that he was attracting considerable attention to
himself. Then the entertainment straightway lost all its charm; he grew
painfully embarrassed, and for the remainder of the evening was
awkwardly self-conscious. When all was over, the audience rose leisurely
and stood in little knots and eddies, laughing and talking; many moved
forward to say a word to the singers and players, Stillings stepped
aside to a group of men, and Bles was left miserably alone. A man came
to him, a white-faced man, with slightly curling close gray hair, and
high-bred ascetic countenance.

"You are a stranger?" he asked pleasantly, and Bles liked him.

"Yes, sir," he answered, and they fell to talking. He discovered that
this was the pastor of the church.

"Do you know no one in town?"

"One or two of my fellow clerks and Mr. Stillings. Oh, yes, I've met
Miss Wynn."

"Why, here is Miss Wynn now."

Bles turned. She was right behind him, the centre of a group. She
turned, slowly, and smiled.

"Oh!" she uttered twice, but with difference cadence. Then something
like amusement lurked a moment in her eye, and she quietly presented
Bles to her friends, while Stillings hovered unnoticed in the offing:

"Miss Jones--Mr. Alwyn of--" she paused a second--"Alabama. Miss
Taylor--Mr. Alwyn--and," with a backward curving of her neck, "Mr.
Teerswell," and so on. Mr. Teerswell was handsome and indolent, with
indecision in his face and a cynical voice. In a moment Bles felt the
subtle antagonism of the group. He was an intruder. Mr. Teerswell nodded
easily and turned away, continuing his conversation with the ladies.

But Miss Wynn was perverse and interrupted. "I saw you enjoyed the
concert, Mr. Alwyn," she said, and one of the young ladies rippled
audibly. Bles darkened painfully, realizing that these people must have
been just behind him. But he answ