icles get printed. He
just sits round and writes, and isn't any company at all. I have tried
to get him to go to the theater, but he won't. Once I was hard
up--hadn't but a nickel--and asked him to lend me a quarter. He
wouldn't."

"Very likely he hasn't got much money."

"That's right. Did you ever see such shabby neckties as he wears?"

"He hasn't your advantages about getting new neckties," said Andy, with
a smile, for he had already learned where Sam was at work.

"How do you like the tie I have on? It's a stunner, isn't it?" asked
Sam, complacently.

"It's very showy."

"I get a new necktie every week. You see, I get them at half price.
Girls always notice your necktie."

"Then I don't think they'll pay me much attention."

"Your tie is too sober, that's a fact. Better let me bring you one. I
can get it half off. They won't know but it's for me."

"Thank you. I may by and by accept your offer. Now, I don't want to
spend any extra money."

At the table Andy was introduced to a Mr. and Mrs. Osborn, who did not
appear to be long married. She was tall, angular and thirty-five. He was
at least five years younger. He had married her for her money, but she
let him have little advantage of it, dealing it out in small sums.

He occupied a small clerkship at eight dollars a week, out of which he
had to pay his own board, while his wife, who had an income from
property of a thousand dollars a year, defrayed her own expenses, and
occasionally allowed him a dollar or two.

He was much better looking than his wife, and it was this, perhaps, that
made her jealous if he looked at another woman. The particular object
of her jealousy was a Miss Manson, who held a business position at an
uptown milliner's. She was pleasant and piquant.

There was also a Mr. Kimball, who was a salesman at Hearn's. He liked to
discuss financial problems, and felt that he should have been a banker,
but found no one to talk with, as Mr. Osborn's ideas on finance were
elementary.

Indeed, Mrs. Osborn was the only one at the table who was competent to
converse with him on his favorite subject.

"Miss Manson, may I pass you the sugar?" asked Mr. Osborn on the first
occasion of Andy's appearing at dinner.

"Miss Manson can reach the sugar bowl herself," interposed Mrs. Osborn,
with a reproving frown.

"I like to be neighborly, my dear," said her husband, deprecatingly.

"I see you do."

Miss Manson smiled, and so did others at the ta