feet a little. Miss Mills cast him a high glance.

"--There'd be trouble, I said, Miss Jamieson."

"You did quite right, dear."

"Two stamps, two sheets of paper and two envelopes, please, miss." He
clicked four pence together on the counter. Miss Mills rose slowly from
her place, went a yard or two, and took down a large book. Frank watched
her gratefully. Then she took a pen and began to make entries in it.

"Two stamps, two sheets of paper and two envelopes, please."

Frank's voice shook a little with anger. He had not learned his lesson
yet.

Miss Mills finished her entry; looked at Frank with extreme disdain,
and finally drew out a sheet of stamps.

"Pennies?" she inquired sharply.

"Please."

Two penny stamps were pushed across and two pennies taken up.

"And now two sheets of paper and two envelopes, please, miss," went on
Frank, encouraged. He thought himself foolish to be angry. Miss Jamieson
uttered a short laugh and glanced at Miss Mills. Miss Mills pursed her
lips together and took up her pen once more.

"Will you be good enough to give me what I ask for, at once, please?"

The whole of Frank blazed in this small sentence: but Miss Mills was
equal to it.

"You ought to know better," she said, "than to come asking for such
things here! Taking up a lot of time like that."

"You don't keep them?"

Miss Mills uttered a small sound. Miss Jamieson tittered.

"Shops are the proper places for writing-paper. This is a post-office."

Words cannot picture the superb high breeding shown in this utterance.
Frank should have understood that he had been guilty of gross
impertinence in asking such things of Miss Mills; it was treating her
almost as a shop-girl. But he was extremely angry by now.

"Then why couldn't you have the civility to tell me so at once?"

Miss Jamieson laid aside a little sewing she was engaged on.

"Look here, young man, you don't come bullying and threatening here.
I'll have to call the policeman if you do.... I was at the railway
station last Friday week, you know."

Frank stood still for one furious instant. Then his heart sank and he
went out without a word.

* * * * *

The letters got written at last, late that evening, in the back room of
a small lodging-house where he had secured a bed. I have the one he
wrote to Jack before me as I write, and I copy it as it stands. It was
without address or date.

"DEAR JACK,

"I want y