was. The
stranger heard, and seemed to understand, for at the sound he rose
quickly, and laid the picture on the counter; not gently; at the same time
he looked at Summerman and laughed; but without merriment.

"Come," said Summerman quickly, "let me take your portrait. I have quite a
collection here, you see." And as he spoke he did not remove his eyes from
the stranger--he had come to the conclusion that he was mad, or in some
direful strait that made him almost irresponsible, and his first purpose
was one of helpful commiseration.

Instead of quitting the shop straightway, as Summerman expected he would
do when he made this proposition (and if he did depart he meant to
follow), the stranger walked toward the instrument, and on his way picked
up the picture he had thrown down with so little ceremony. He seemed to
think he owed this courtesy:

"Do you find much patronage here?" he asked.

"Oh, considerable," replied Summerman. "Just now more than common. Your
likeness is such a good present to make your friend!"

"Do you think so?"

"Certainly," was the emphatic response.

"You ask to take my likeness--what for?"

"I want it myself."

"Oh--for a sign. Well, young man, you don't know what it's the sign of,
after all," and here Mr. Rush evidently set himself against the world.

"I hope it's the sign of a friend," answered Summerman, who was keeping up
his spirits by an effort, for the mere presence of this man weighed on
them with an almost intolerable weight. Yet he was sparing no effort to
retain that presence.

"Why do you hope that?" asked Mr. Rush with a disagreeable show of
authority.

"Because we met at the church door on Christmas day." Simple answer--yet
it was spoken so gently, so truthfully, it seemed to make an impression.

"Christmas day. So it is. But it's getting late. How high is the sun yet?"

"Three hours, maybe."

Hearing this, the gentleman turned away, and walked to the further
extremity of the shop. Summerman's eyes followed him with anxiety. But he
went on polishing a plate, and seemed beyond all things intent on that.

Presently Mr. Rush came back.

"You may take my likeness," said he. "You are a good fellow. And it will
help pass time."

So the artist stepped quickly about, and looked pleased, but not too much
so. The work was soon done. While Summerman was putting it through the
process of perfection, the gentleman stood and watched him.

"How did you want your choir to