again.

Gregory came round the corner of the building from the dining-room, and
the big girl who was crouching before Clementina, and who boasted that
she was not afraid of the student, called saucily to him, "Come here, a
minute, Mr. Gregory," and as he approached, she tilted aside, to let him
see Clementina's slippers.

Clementina beamed up at him with all her happiness in her eyes, but after
a faltering instant, his face reddened through its freckles, and he gave
her a rebuking frown and passed on.

"Well, I decla'e!" said the big girl. Fane turned uneasily, and said with
a sigh, he guessed he must be going, now.

A blight fell upon the gay spirits of the group, and the shoeman asked
with an ironical glance after Gregory's retreating figure, "Owna of this
propaty?"

"No, just the ea'th," said the big girl, angrily.

The voice of Clementina made itself heard with a cheerfulness which had
apparently suffered no chill, but was really a rising rebellion. "How
much ah' the slippas?"

"Three dollas," said the shoeman in a surprise which he could not conceal
at Clementina's courage.

She laughed, and stooped to untie the slippers. "That's too much for me."

"Let me untie 'em, Clem," said the big girl. "It's a shame for you eva to
take 'em off."

"That's right, lady," said the shoeman. "And you don't eva need to," he
added, to Clementina, "unless you object to sleepin' in 'em. You pay me
what you want to now, and the rest when I come around the latta paht of
August."

"Oh keep 'em, Clem!" the big girl urged, passionately, and the rest
joined her with their entreaties.

"I guess I betta not," said Clementina, and she completed the work of
taking off the slippers in which the big girl could lend her no further
aid, such was her affliction of spirit.

"All right, lady," said the shoeman. "Them's youa slippas, and I'll just
keep 'em for you till the latta paht of August."

He drove away, and in the woods which he had to pass through on the road
to another hotel he overtook the figure of a man pacing rapidly. He
easily recognized Gregory, but he bore him no malice. "Like a lift?" he
asked, slowing up beside him.

"No, thank you," said Gregory. "I'm out for the walk." He looked round
furtively, and then put his hand on the side of the wagon, mechanically,
as if to detain it, while he walked on.

"Did you sell the slippers to the young lady?"

"Well, not as you may say sell, exactly," returned the shoeman,
c