t was much too late to extend a formal dinner
invitation. There was nothing for it but to eat alone. He suddenly
became conscious of the great loneliness of his bachelor life. After
all, he was quite as much alone in the city as he had been in his
boyhood in the hills. He began to moralize on this subject of
loneliness. It was very evident to him now that his life had been
empty and shallow. It was rather evident that any single life is empty
and shallow. Nature had made no mistake in decreeing that humans
should live in pairs. Dave had never thought much on that point
before, but now it struck him as so obvious that none could fail to see
its logic. The charm of bachelorhood was a myth which only needed
contact with the gentle atmosphere of feminine affection to be exposed.

The Chinese boy coughed deferentially, and Dave was recalled from his
reverie. He took his hat and coat and went into the street. It was
his custom to take his meals at a modest eating-place on a side avenue,
but to-night he directed his steps to the best hotel the city afforded.
There was no wisdom in dressing for an event unless he were going to
deflect his course somewhat from the daily routine.

The dining hall was a blaze of light; the odour of early roses blended
with imported perfumes, and strains of sweet, subdued music trembled
through the room in accompaniment to the merry-making of the diners.
Dave paused for a moment, awaiting the beck of a waiter, but in that
moment his eye fell on Conward, seated at a table with Mrs. Hardy and
Irene. Conward had seen him, and was motioning to him to join them.
The situation was embarrassing, and yet delightful. He was glad he had
dressed for dinner.

"Join us, Elden," Conward said, as he reached their table. "Just a
little dinner to celebrate to-day's transaction. You will not refuse
to share to that extent?"

Dave looked at Mrs. Hardy. Had he been dealing with Conward and Mrs.
Hardy alone he would have excused himself, but he had to think of
Irene. That is, he had to justify her by being correct in his manners.
And as he looked from mother to daughter he realized that Irene had not
inherited all her beauty from her father. In their dinner gowns Mrs.
Hardy was sedate and even beautiful, and her daughter ravishing. Dave
thought he had not before seen so much womanly charm in any figure.

"_Do_ join us," said Mrs. Hardy. It was evident to Mrs. Hardy that it
would be correct for