f rushing trains. The breeze could be heard in the quiet, stirring
the young, soft leaves. Farnham felt sore, beaten, discomfited. He
smiled a little bitterly to himself when he considered that the cause
of his feeling of discouragement was that Alice Belding had spoken to
him with coldness and shyness when she opened her door. He could not
help saying to himself, "I deserved a kinder greeting than she gave me.
She evidently wished me to understand that I am not to be permitted any
further intimacy. I have forfeited that by presuming to love her. But
how lovely she is! When she took her mother in her arms, I thought of
all the Greek heroines I ever read about. Still, 'if she be not fair
for me'--if I am not to be either lover or friend--this is no place for
me."

The clock on the mantel struck midnight. "A strange night," he mused.
"There is one sweet and one bitter thing about it. I have done her a
service, and she did not care."

He went to the door to speak to Kendall. "I think our work is over for
to-night. Have our prisoners taken down to the Refrigerator and turned
over to the ordinary police. I will make charges to-morrow. Then divide
the men into watches and make yourself as comfortable as you can. If
anything happens, call me. If nothing happens, good-night."

He returned to his library, turned down the gas, threw himself on the
sofa, and was soon asleep; even before Alice, who sat, unhappy, as
youth is unhappy, by an open window, her eyes full of tears, her heart
full of remorse. "It is too wretched to think of," she bemoaned
herself. "He is the only man in the world I could ever care for, and I
have driven him away. It never can be made right again; I am punished
justly. If I thought he would take me, I believe I could go this minute
and throw myself at his feet. But he would smile, and raise me up, and
make some pretty speech, very gentle, and very dreadful, and bring me
back to mamma, and then I should die."

But at nineteen well-nourished maidens do not pass the night in
mourning, however heavy their hearts may be, and Alice slept at last,
and perhaps was happier in her innocent dreams.

The night passed without further incident, and the next day, though it
may have shown favorable signs to practised eyes, seemed very much, to
the public, like the day which had preceded it. There were fewer shops
closed in the back streets; there were not so many parties of wandering
apostles of plunder going about to