es in regard to her.

"I'm headed north right now. If there's any information I can send
you----"

She shook her head slowly, but even the negative was marked by an
indecisive quality, as if she were repressing some importunate desire.

"I wish you a pleasant journey, sir." All her belongings were in her
hands.

"It's queer--it's almost more than queer how we happened to meet--both
interested in the north country," he stuttered, wanting to detain her.

He was hoping she would make something of the matter.

But she merely acknowledged the truth of his statement, adding, "There
would be more such coincidences in life if folks took the trouble to
interest themselves a bit in one another and compare notes."

She started to walk away; then she whirled and came back to the table
and leaned over it. Her soul of longing was in her eyes--they were
filled with tears. "You're going back there," she whispered. "God bless
the north country! Give a friendly pat to one of the big trees for me
and say you found a girl in New York who is homesick."

She turned from him before he could summon words.

He wanted to call after her--to find out more about her. He saw her
gathering up her change at the cashier's wicket. The spectacle reminded
him of his own check. Even love at first sight, if such could be the
strange new emotion struggling within him, could not enable him to leap
the barrier of the cashier's cold stare and rush away without paying
scot. He hunted for his punched check. He pawed all over the marble top
of the table, rattling the dishes.

A check--it was surely all of that!

The search for it checked him till the girl was gone, mingled with the
street crowds. He found the little devil of a delayer in the paper
napkin which he had nervously wadded and dropped on the floor. He shoved
money to the cashier and did not wait for his change. He rushed out on
the street and stretched up his six stalwart feet and craned his neck
and hunted for the little green toque with the white quill.

It was a vain quest.

He did not know just what the matter was with him all of a sudden. He
had never had any personal experience with that which he had vaguely
understood was love; he had merely viewed it from a standpoint of a
disinterested observer, in the case of other men. He hated to admit, as
he stood there in the drizzle, his defeat by a cafeteria check.

He remained in New York for another night, his emotions aggravatingly
co