ng down to
earn it! How much pleasanter would it be to stand here and wait for an
adventure--for the fairy godmother who troubled the conventional Mrs.
Barker! After all, it is not impossible.... A horse might take fright
and bolt ... the driver lose his head ... a beauteous damsel sits
wringing her hands in the carriage. I seize the opportunity, spring
forward and check the maddened steed, escort the fainting lady home in a
cab, and then--ah! Boundless Possibilities."

He smiled, lighted a cigarette and pursued his idle fancy.

"She must be, of course, the sole heiress of a millionaire. In his
gratitude he would wish to reward me. But seeing that I am no vulgar
fee-snatcher he would ask me to stay and dine. Over the walnuts and the
port (how long is it since I drank good port?) he would learn my story,
and with unusual delicacy say, 'Well, some day I hope I shall be able to
help you to a job.' I leave his house, warm, full-fed, hopeful. The next
morning he sends his car round, and I am whirled to his palatial city
office. I enter--the great man is up to his knees in documents dictating
to a staff of typewriters and gramophones. He spares me three minutes.
'Good morning, Mr. Mortimer. I find I need a secretary--salary a
thousand a year. Oh! a bagatelle, I know, but you would have
opportunities. Politics, perhaps. Anyhow, a beginning. Care to connect?'
I accept with diffidence. 'Good. Take your coat off. Next room you'll
find ...' I am a made man. Then the daughter--I had forgotten her, dear
thing!--already touched by my heroism, might look favorably upon me; and
who knows----?"

At this point his musings were broken by confused shoutings and
whistles. Looking up, Lionel saw with amused surprise that for once fate
was playing into his hands; his dreams were coming true. An open
brougham, drawn by a terrified horse, was approaching at an appalling
speed. The coachman, crazed with fear, was standing up, tugging vainly
at the reins, white, and shouting. In the brougham, pallid but calm, sat
a girl of about twenty-three. Her lips were slightly parted, but no
sound came from between them; courage held her erect, motionless and
silent. The traffic divided before the swaying brougham like waves
before a cutwater. When it was fifty yards distant the coachman lost all
control of himself and with a scream of fear leaped from the box. He
came down On his feet, staggered against a portly merchant--who went
over like a ninepin--an