self comfortable.'

'Before I have that pleasure,' replied Evan, 'I--'

'I see where 'tis,' burst out the old boy who had previously
superinduced a diversion: 'he's going to ax if he can't have a bed!'

A roar of laughter, and 'Don't you remember this day last year?'
followed the cunning guess. For awhile explication was impossible; and
Evan coloured, and smiled, and waited for them.

'I was going to ask--'

'Said so!' shouted the old boy, gleefully.

'--one of the gentlemen who has engaged a bed-room to do me the extreme
favour to step aside with me, and allow me a moment's speech with him.'

Long faces were drawn, and odd stares were directed toward him, in
reply.

'I see where 'tis'; the old boy thumped his knee. 'Ain't it now? Speak
up, sir! There's a lady in the case?'

'I may tell you thus much,' answered Evan, 'that it is an unfortunate
young woman, very ill, who needs rest and quiet.'

'Didn't I say so?' shouted the old boy.

But this time, though his jolly red jowl turned all round to demand a
confirmation, it was not generally considered that he had divined so
correctly. Between a lady and an unfortunate young woman, there seemed
to be a strong distinction, in the minds of the company.

The chairman was the most affected by the communication. His bushy
eyebrows frowned at Evan, and he began tugging at the brass buttons of
his coat, like one preparing to arm for a conflict.

'Speak out, sir, if you please,' he said. 'Above board--no asides--no
taking advantages. You want me to give up my bed-room for the use of
your young woman, sir?'

Evan replied quietly: 'She is a stranger to me; and if you could see
her, sir, and know her situation, I think she would move your pity.'

'I don't doubt it, sir--I don't doubt it,' returned the chairman. 'They
all move our pity. That's how they get over us. She has diddled you,
and she would diddle me, and diddle us all-diddle the devil, I dare say,
when her time comes. I don't doubt it, sir.'

To confront a vehement old gentleman, sitting as president in an
assembly of satellites, requires command of countenance, and Evan was
not browbeaten: he held him, and the whole room, from where he stood,
under a serene and serious eye, for his feelings were too deeply stirred
on behalf of the girl to let him think of himself. That question of
hers, 'What are you going to do with me?' implying such helplessness and
trust, was still sharp on his nerves.

'Gentlemen,' h