550 for one thing, and he's old. And he doesn't know
his business.... Oh yes! I think I can see my money back.... Wait till
Christmas is turned and I make a start!"

She knew that the future would justify his self-confidence. How he
succeeded she could not define. Why should he succeed where another was
failing? He could not go out and drag boarders by physical force into
his private hotel! Yet he would succeed. In every gesture he was the
successful man. She looked timidly up at his eyes under the strong black
eyelashes. His glance caught hers. He smiled conqueringly.

"Haven't said a word to Sarah yet!" he almost whispered, so low was his
voice; and he put on a mock-rueful smile. Hilda smiled in response.

"Shall you keep Preston Street?" she asked.

"Of course!" he said with pride--"I shall run the two, naturally." He
put his shoulders back. "One will help the other, don't you see?"

She thought she saw, and nodded appreciatively. He meant to run two
establishments! At the same moment a young and stylish man drove rather
slowly by in a high dog-cart. He nodded carelessly to George Cannon, and
then, perceiving that George Cannon was with a lady, raised his hat in
haste. George Cannon responded. The young man gazed for an instant hard
at Hilda, with a peculiar expression, and passed on. She did not know
who he was. Of George Cannon's relationships in the town she was
entirely ignorant, but that he had relationships was always obvious.

She blushed, thinking of what Sarah Gailey had said about 'talk'
concerning herself and George Cannon. In the young man's glance there
had been something to annoy and shame her.

"Come across and have a look at the place," said George Cannon, suddenly
stepping down into the gutter, with a look first in one direction and
then in the other for threatening traffic.

"I don't think I'll come now," she replied.

"But why not? Are you in a hurry? You've plenty of time before five
o'clock--heaps!"

"I'd prefer not to come," she insisted, in an abashed and diffident
voice.

"But what's up?" he demanded, stepping back to the pavement, and
glancing directly into her eyes.

She blushed more and more, dropping her eyelids.

"I don't want to be talked about _too_ much!" she muttered, mortified.
Her inference was unmistakable. The whole of her mind seemed now to be
occupied with an enormous grievance which she somehow had against the
world in general. Her very soul, too, was bursting wi