e--all gone. I'm as poor as Job's turkey. It's up to Jones, but I
don't see how he can decide against me. He insisted on making a pauper
of me and he can't have the heart to throw me down now. But, what if he
should take it into his head to be ugly! I wonder if I could break the
will--I wonder if I could beat him out in court."

Peggy was waiting for him. Her cheeks were flushed as with a fever. She
had caught from him the mad excitement of the occasion.

"Come, Peggy," he exclaimed, eagerly. "This is our last holiday--let's
be merry. We can forget it to-morrow, if you like, when we begin all
over again, but maybe it will be worth remembering." He assisted her to
the seat and then leaped up beside her. "We're off!" he cried, his
voice quivering.

"It is absolute madness, dear," she said, but her eyes were sparkling
with the joy of recklessness. Away went the trap and the two light
hearts. Mrs. Gray turned from a window in the house with tears in her
eyes. To her troubled mind they were driving off into utter darkness.

"The queerest looking man came to the house to see you this afternoon,
Monty," said Peggy. "He wore a beard and he made me think of one of
Remington's cowboys."

"What was his name?"

"He told the maid it did not matter. I saw him as he walked away and he
looked very much a man. He said he would come to-morrow if he did not
find you down town to-night. Don't you recognize him from the
description?"

"Not at all. Can't imagine who he is."

"Monty," she said, after a moment's painful reflection, "he--he
couldn't have been a--"

"I know what you mean. An officer sent up to attach my belongings or
something of the sort. No, dearest; I give you my word of honor I do
not owe a dollar in the world." Then he recalled his peculiar
indebtedness to Bragdon and Gardner. "Except one or two very small
personal obligations," he added, hastily. "Don't worry about it, dear,
we are out for a good time and we must make the most of it. First, we
drive through the Park, then we dine at Sherry's."

"But we must dress for that, dear," she cried. "And the chaperon?"

He turned very red when she spoke of dressing. "I'm ashamed to confess
it, Peggy, but I have no other clothes than these I'm wearing now.
Don't look so hurt, dear--I'm going to leave an order for new evening
clothes to-morrow--if I have the time. And about the chaperon. People
won't be talking before to-morrow and by that time--"

"No, Monty, Sherry's