Adams turning valet to his own man! Oh,
that is rich! But far be it from me to interfere with the ways of a
mysterious Providence. Besides, in six months or so his income will
probably be coming in again. Meanwhile-- Well, we will see how it
works out."

That was five or six weeks ago, and not until Tuesday last does either
of us hear another word. Mr. Robert he'd been too busy; and as for me,
I'd had no call. Still, being within a couple of blocks of the place,
I thought I might stroll past. I even hangs up outside the entrance a
few minutes, on the chance that one or the other of 'em might be goin'
in or out, I'd about given up though, and was startin' off, when I
almost bumps into someone dodgin' down the basement steps.

It's Ham Adams, with a bottle of gasoline in one hand and a bundle of
laundry under his arm. Looks sprucer and snappier than I'd ever seen
him before, too. And that sour, surly look is all gone. Why, he's
almost smilin'.

"Well, well!" says I. "How's valetin' these days?"

"Oh, it's you, is it?" says he. "Why, I'm getting along fine. Of
course, I never could be quite so good at it as--as Mr. Nivens was, but
he is kind enough to say that I am doing very well. Really, though, it
is quite simple. I just think of the things I should like to have done
for me, and--well, I do them for him. It's rather interesting, you
know."

I expect I gawped some myself, hearing that from him. From Ham Adams,
mind you!

"Ye-e-e-es; must be," says I, sort of draggy. Then I shifts the
subject. "How's Mr. Nivens gettin' along?" says I. "Ain't married
yet, eh?"

For a second Ham Adams lapses back into his old glum look.

"That is the only thing that worries me," says he. "No, he isn't
married, as yet; but he means to be. And the lady--well, she's a
widow, rather well off. Nice sort of person, in a way. A Mrs.
Grenville Hawks."

"Not the one that used to send you bunches of roses?" says I.

He stares at me, and then nods.

"It seems that Mr. Nivens had already picked her out--before," says he.
"Oh, there was really nothing between us. I'd never been a marrying
man, you know. But Mrs. Hawks--well, we were rather congenial. She's
bright, not much of a highbrow, and not quite in the swim. I suppose I
might have-- Oh, widows, you know. Told me she didn't intend to stay
one. And now Mr. Nivens has come to know her, in some way; through his
cousin Mabel, I suppose. Knows her quite w