him on the floor.

"Why, isn't that fine?" said Trina, good-naturedly. "I'm very glad,
Mister Grannis. Is it a good price?"

"Quite a sum--quite. In fact, I never dreamed of having so much money."

"Now, see here, Mister Grannis," said Trina, decisively, "I want to give
you a good piece of advice. Here are you and Miss Baker----" The old
Englishman started nervously--"You and Miss Baker, that have been in
love with each other for----"

"Oh, Mrs. McTeague, that subject--if you would please--Miss Baker is
such an estimable lady."

"Fiddlesticks!" said Trina. "You're in love with each other, and the
whole flat knows it; and you two have been living here side by side year
in and year out, and you've never said a word to each other. It's all
nonsense. Now, I want you should go right in and speak to her just as
soon as she comes home, and say you've come into money and you want her
to marry you."

"Impossible--impossible!" exclaimed the old Englishman, alarmed and
perturbed. "It's quite out of the question. I wouldn't presume."

"Well, do you love her, or not?"

"Really, Mrs. McTeague, I--I--you must excuse me. It's a matter so
personal--so--I--Oh, yes, I love her. Oh, yes, indeed," he exclaimed,
suddenly.

"Well, then, she loves you. She told me so."

"Oh!"

"She did. She said those very words."

Miss Baker had said nothing of the kind--would have died sooner than
have made such a confession; but Trina had drawn her own conclusions,
like every other lodger of the flat, and thought the time was come for
decided action.

"Now you do just as I tell you, and when she comes home, go right in and
see her, and have it over with. Now, don't say another word. I'm going;
but you do just as I tell you."

Trina turned about and went down-stairs. She had decided, since Miss
Baker was not at home, that she would run over and see Maria; possibly
she could have lunch there. At any rate, Maria would offer her a cup of
tea.

Old Grannis stood for a long time just as Trina had left him, his hands
trembling, the blood coming and going in his withered cheeks.

"She said, she--she--she told her--she said that--that----" he could get
no farther.

Then he faced about and entered his room, closing the door behind him.
For a long time he sat in his armchair, drawn close to the wall in
front of the table on which stood his piles of pamphlets and his little
binding apparatus.

"I wonder," said Trina, as she crossed the yard ba