I don't mean there's
going to be a panic, or anything like that, but everything's very high.
They may go some higher, but they'll certainly go a good deal lower.
And I don't think that we'll have to wait very long. Good-night--glad
to have seen you."

"Good-night," replied Smith, thoughtfully.

CHAPTER XX

In the Deerfield Street apartment a young man stood waiting with
perhaps less calm than was strictly Oriental. This could no doubt be
attributed to the fact that he anticipated with distinct pleasure the
coming of somebody, while a true Oriental never really anticipates
anything--or if he does, the thought gives him no delight.

But Smith, as he sat in the straight-backed chair, felt very glad
indeed that he was about to see the somebody for whom he was waiting.
The time which had elapsed since his most recent trip to Boston had
somehow gone with unconscionable slowness, and the medium of the mails
had proved an alternative means of communication only measurably
compensating. He had, in short, discovered that a great deal of his
life was concerned with the girl whose footsteps were now to be heard
advancing down the hall.

"I'm awfully glad to see you," said Miss Maitland.

"And I you," returned the visitor; and if the words carried only the
conventionalities, each found a way to make them more significant.

"Mother will be in to welcome you," the girl continued. "It's a
compliment she doesn't pay everyone," she added, with a smile. "She
doesn't care, as a rule, for young gentlemen visitors. By the way, we
have plenty of time, have we not, before we need to start?"

"Fully twenty minutes," he answered. "I guess I'm absurdly early, but
I thought I ought to give the young lady an opportunity to get
acquainted with me before starting out alone with me in a taxi."

"Are we ever acquainted with any one?" the girl parried; and a moment
later the conversation shifted to meet the entrance of Mrs. Maitland.

Shortly before eight o'clock they set forth for the theater. It was
the evening of the twenty-first of February, and the following day,
Sunday, was also a holiday in memory of a great man. It was of him
that they chanced to speak, almost on entering their conveyance.

"I'm glad to-morrow is a holiday," said Smith. "After a party on the
previous night it is always soothing to think one isn't obliged to get
up at any particular hour in the morning. But I don't suppose that
point of view would ap