ches, and spending-money unspent always made Agatha unhappy.
She now broached the subject of taking a coach, and remembered that it
was a free day at the Art Museum. Millard proposed to go to the Fifth
Avenue gate and get a carriage for the party. This extravagance the
prudent Mrs. Callender would not consent to, and so Millard conducted
the ladies to the place where Shakspere, a little weak in the knees, has
long been doing his best, according to his ability, to learn a part in a
new play. The first coach that came by had but two vacancies. Millard
hailed it, and said promptly:

"Now, Miss Agatha, we shall not find four places in one coach to-day.
You and Mrs. Callender get into this one, and take stop-over checks at
the Museum. Miss Callender and I will join you there in the next coach
or on foot."

There was no time for debate, and before Mrs. Callender could muster her
wits to decide what was best to be done about this, Charley's gloved
hands had gently helped her into the coach, put Agatha in beside her,
and handed a half-dollar to the driver for the fare. Just as Mrs.
Callender was beginning to protest against this last act the coach
rolled away, and Agatha saw Millard and Phillida face about without
waiting for another coach and return toward Shakspere and the Mall.

"I oughtn't to have let him pay for us," murmured Mrs. Callender.

"Oh, you needn't feel under any obligations," whispered Agatha; "he just
wanted to be alone with Phillida."

But now that Millard had seized the advantage of an unchaperoned stroll
with Phillida, he found himself without the courage to use it. The very
suddenness with which they had been left to themselves made Phillida
feel that a crisis was imminent, and this served to give her an air of
confusion and restraint. In presence of this reserve Millard drew back.

The two strolled along the Mall, admiring the wide, elm-shaded triple
avenue, and talking of uninteresting subjects. They were involved once
more in the evergrowing holiday crowd, and Millard saw with vexation
that his opportunity was slipping away from him. When they had traversed
the length of the Mall and were approaching the bust of Beethoven,
Phillida said suddenly:

"There is Mina Schulenberg in a wheel-chair. I wonder how she contrived
to get one."

She pushed forward toward the invalid, but Millard hung back a little,
and Phillida suspected that he was probably ashamed to be seen talking
with Mina, who was whee