e walls of the mill made her heart beat with
pure pity. For she could understand it.

One of the many, and often humorous, incidents that served to bring
about this realization of a former aimlessness happened on their second
Sunday excursion. This time he had not chosen the Kingsbury Tavern, but
another automobilists' haunt, an enlightening indication of established
habits involving a wide choice of resorts. While he was paying for
luncheon and chatting with the proprietor, Ditmar snatched from the
change he had flung down on the counter a five dollar gold coin.

"Now how in thunder did that get into my right-hand pocket? I always
keep it in my vest," he exclaimed; and the matter continued to disturb
him after they were in the automobile. "It's my lucky piece. I guess I
was so excited at the prospect of seeing you when I dressed this morning
I put it into my change. Just see what you do to me!"

"Does it bring you luck?" she inquired smilingly.

"How about you! I call you the biggest piece of luck I ever had."

"You'd better not be too sure," she warned him.

"Oh, I'm not worrying. I has that piece in my pocket the day I went down
to see old Stephen Chippering, when he made me agent, and I've kept it
ever since. And I'll tell you a funny thing--it's enough to make any man
believe in luck. Do you remember that day last summer I was tinkering
with the car by the canal and you came along?"

"The day you pretended to be tinkering," she corrected him.

He laughed. "So you were on to me?" he said. "You're a foxy one!"

"Anyone could see you were only pretending. It made me angry, when I
thought of it afterwards."

"I just had to do it--I wanted to talk to you. But listen to what I'm
going to tell you! It's a miracle, all right,--happening just at that
time--that very morning. I was coming back to Boston from New York on
the midnight, and when the train ran into Back Bay and I was putting on
my trousers the piece rolled out among the bed clothes. I didn't know
I'd lost it until I sat down in the Parker House to eat my breakfast,
and I suddenly felt in my pocket. It made me sick to think it was gone.
Well, I started to telephone the Pullman office, and then I made up my
mind I'd take a taxi and go down to the South Station myself, and just
as I got out of the cab there was the nigger porter, all dressed up in
his glad rags, coming out of the station! I knew him, I'd been on his
car lots of times. 'Say, George,' I sai