electric glare, out
of which the two men stepped ten minutes later, made a deep impression
upon Huntington. The eyes of his friend, however, were focused upon the
little party, chatting merrily about the table, awaiting their arrival.

"I had them postpone our coffee," Thatcher explained as he presented
Cosden to the Stevenses and to Hamlen, and Huntington to each. "We shall
enjoy it the more for having you with us."

Huntington found himself sitting between the daughter and Hamlen, while
Cosden sat next to Mrs. Thatcher across the table. There had been no
recognition, and Huntington was glad of it; he preferred to introduce
the subject in his own way and at his own time. The girl, however, had
already discovered a bond.

"Aren't you Billy Huntington's uncle?" she asked.

"Yes," he admitted; "but where in the world did you meet him?"

"He is a particular friend of my brother Philip's," she explained.
"Philip is a year ahead of him at Harvard, you know, but they are great
pals. My brother always has him at the house whenever he's in New York."

"Well, well!" laughed Huntington. "The young rascal never told me
anything about it! But wait a minute--Phil Thatcher--why, of course!
Billy has had him in to dine with me several times. So he's your
brother!"

"Yes; I was sure I was right," she smiled. "We're friends already,
aren't we?"

"We are," Huntington acquiesced gravely; "and I shall do something
particularly nice for Billy to show my appreciation of what he has done
for me."

Mrs. Thatcher caught the general drift of her daughter's conversation,
and she leaned across the table.

"Are you not a Harvard man, Mr. Huntington?" she asked. "If so, you and
Mr. Hamlen must have been in college at about the same time."

"Yes," Huntington replied; and turning to Hamlen he gave the year of his
graduation.

"That was my Class also," was the reply; but there was nothing in
Hamlen's manner to invite reminiscence.

"Hamlen--Philip Hamlen," Huntington repeated meditatively. "I don't
believe we knew each other, did we? But the name is familiar. I have it!
You are the lost Philip Hamlen our Class Secretary has been searching
for; I have seen the name in the list of missing men each time a Class
Report has been issued. You must send him your history, my dear fellow.
We're proud of our Class, and we don't want to lose sight of a single
member."

There was a bitterness in Hamlen's voice as he replied. "My history
would in