hat he'd be sort of afraid of himself."

The woman answered pleasantly, and would, gladly have continued the
conversation, but was called away just then to a customer. Hidden from
view of the street by a large dummy lady in a sealskin coat and
fur-trimmed skirt, Mary peeped out from behind it at the panorama
rolling past the window. At first she was intensely interested in the
endless stream of strange faces, but when an hour had slipped by and
still they came, always strange, always different, a sense of littleness
and loneliness seized her, that amounted almost to panic. She longed to
get away from this great myriad-footed monster of a city, back to
something small and familiar and quiet; to neighbourly greetings and
friendly faces. The loneliness caused by the strange crowds depressed
her. It was like a dull ache.

The moments dragged on. She had no way to judge how long she waited,
but the hour seemed at least two. Then suddenly, through the mass of
people came a well-known figure with a firm, athletic tread. A man, who
even in this crowd of well-dressed cosmopolitans attracted a second
look.

"Oh, it's Phil!" she exclaimed aloud, her face brightening as if the sun
had suddenly burst out on a cloudy day. She wondered if she dared do
such a thing as to tap on the window to attract his attention. She would
not have hesitated in Plainsville or Phoenix, but here everything was
so different. Somebody else might look and Phil never turn his head.

While she waited, half-rising from her chair, he stopped, looked up at
the sign, and then came directly towards the door. Wondering at the
strange coincidence that should bring him into the one shop in all New
York in which she happened to be sitting, she started up, thinking to
surprise him. Then the surprise was hers, for she saw that he was in
search of _her_. With a word to the obsequious salesman who met him, he
came directly towards her hiding-place behind the dummy in sealskin. His
face lighted with a merry smile that was good to see as he crossed over
to her with outstretched hand, saying laughingly:

"The lost is found! Well, young lady, this is a pretty performance! What
do you mean by shocking your fond relatives and friends almost into
catalepsy? I happened to drop in at the studio just as Joyce got your
message, and she and Betty were at their wits' end to account for your
disappearance."

"Oh, I'm so _glad_ to see you," answered Mary. "You can't imagine! I'm