re courage, because she was a real artist
and not a proven failure."

"But I didn't say that."

"You had it in mind when you told me that. You are quite right. Thank
you for telling me."

"There!" Jonathan beamed happily. "I said she was an inspiration to
any man."

"At least," said David grimly, "she is a good example."

Jonathan left. But in a moment he returned.

"Do you like music?"

"Very much."

"Then one of these evenings we'll go out to my house, we three, and
have some, if you'd care for it."

"I should be glad to."

"Next Saturday, perhaps?"

David repeated his polite formula.

Jonathan eyed him wistfully. "You know, you're not obliged to say that
if there is something else you would rather do. I shouldn't care to
take advantage of my position to force my company and--and my
friendship upon you."

"I should be very glad to have them." And when he had said it, David
knew he had meant it. "Both of them," he added.

The little man's face lighted up eagerly. "You really mean that?"

"I certainly do."

"I am very happy to hear you say so. You see," Jonathan explained, "I
lead a rather lonely life of it, away from the shop. I am not equipped
for social life. People of talent and agreeable manners and taste do
not seem to care for my company. They are not to be blamed, of course."

The homely face was sad again. David was uncomfortable and silent.

"However," Jonathan's smile reappeared, "I am fortunate to have found
congenial friends here. Miss Summers is one. And now I add you to the
list. With two friends a man ought to count himself rich, don't you
think?"

David agreed smilingly.

Jonathan started away for the second time, then caught himself. "I
forgot. I am ashamed to have forgotten. Perhaps you ought to be with
your family Saturday evening. I should hate to feel--"

"My family is away."

If David's voice had become suddenly curt, Jonathan did not seem to
perceive it.

"Then we'll consider it settled."

This time his departure was final. And the cloud, lifted a little by
the efforts of a white-faced bookkeeper and a comically ugly manikin,
settled upon David once more. He bent grimly to his interrupted work.

At that moment Radbourne was obtaining Miss Summers' assent to the
occasion of Saturday. It was not hard to obtain.

"I like that young man," he confided. "I think we're going to be very
good friends."

"I hope so."

"Yes. It would mean mu