rcase, the others chatting by the door. The Doctor was not
with them, nor Starke. Andy stood up, trying to hear, holding his felt
hat over his mouth. "If he's hed a chance!" But he could catch only
broken sentences.

"A long session."

"I knew it from the first."

"I asked Starke to call on me to-morrow," etc.

And so they put on their hats, and went out, leaving the hall vacant.

"I can't stand this," said Andy, after a pause.

He wiped his wet feet, and went into the hall. The door out of which the
men came opened into a reception-room; beyond that was the lobby. It was
dimly lighted as yet, when he entered it; the engine-model, a mass of
miniature wheels and cylinders, was in the middle of the bare floor; the
Doctor and Starke at the other end of the apartment. The Doctor was
talking,--a few words now and then, earnestly spoken. Andy could not
hear them; but Starke sat, saying nothing. Miss Defourchet took a pair
of India-rubber boots from the servant in the hall, and went to him.

"You must wear them, and take an umbrella, if you will not stay," she
said, stooping down, as if she would like to have put them on his feet,
her voice a little unsteady. "It rains very heavily, and your shoes are
not strong. Indeed, you must."

"Shoes, eh?" said the old machinist, lifting one foot end then the other
on his knee, and looking vacantly at the holes through which the bare
skin showed. "Oh, yes, yes,"--rising and going past her, as if he did
not see her.

"But you'll take them?"

"Hush, Mary! Mr. Starke, I may come and see you to-morrow, you said?
We'll arrange matters,"--with a hearty tone.

Starke touched his hat with the air of an old-school gentleman.

"I shall be happy to see you, Sir,--very happy. You will allow me to
wish you good evening?"--smiling. "I am not well,"--with the same
meaningless look.

"Certainly,"--shaking hands earnestly. "I wish I could induce you to
stay and have a talk over your future prospects, eh? But to-morrow--I
will be down early to-morrow. Your young friend gave me the address. The
model--we'll have that sent down to-morrow, too."

Starke stopped.

"The model," without, however, looking at it. "Yes. It can go to-night.
I should prefer that. Andrew will bring an express-wagon for
it,"--fumbling in his pocket.

"I have the exact change," said Miss Defourchet, eagerly; "let me pay
the express."

Starke's face colored and grew pale again.

"You mistake me," he said, smiling