by
a coal fire under the black marble mantelpiece,--brilliantly reflected
in a long mirror that hung between the two windows. This was the first
time Fred had seen the room, and he took it in quickly, as he put down
his hat and gloves.

Thea seated herself at the walnut writing-desk, still holding the slip
of yellow paper. "Dr. Archie is coming," she said. "He will be here
Friday morning."

"Well, that's good, at any rate," her visitor replied with a determined
effort at cheerfulness. Then, turning to the fire, he added blankly, "If
you want him."

"Of course I want him. I would never have asked such a thing of him if I
hadn't wanted him a great deal. It's a very expensive trip." Thea spoke
severely. Then she went on, in a milder tone. "He doesn't say anything
about the money, but I think his coming means that he can let me have
it."

Fred was standing before the mantel, rubbing his hands together
nervously. "Probably. You are still determined to call on him?" He sat
down tentatively in the chair Thea had indicated. "I don't see why you
won't borrow from me, and let him sign with you, for instance. That
would constitute a perfectly regular business transaction. I could bring
suit against either of you for my money."

Thea turned toward him from the desk. "We won't take that up again,
Fred. I should have a different feeling about it if I went on your
money. In a way I shall feel freer on Dr. Archie's, and in another way I
shall feel more bound. I shall try even harder." She paused. "He is
almost like my father," she added irrelevantly.

"Still, he isn't, you know," Fred persisted. "It wouldn't be anything
new. I've loaned money to students before, and got it back, too."

"Yes; I know you're generous," Thea hurried over it, "but this will be
the best way. He will be here on Friday did I tell you?"

"I think you mentioned it. That's rather soon. May I smoke?" he took out
a small cigarette case. "I suppose you'll be off next week?" he asked as
he struck a match.

"Just as soon as I can," she replied with a restless movement of her
arms, as if her dark-blue dress were too tight for her. "It seems as if
I'd been here forever."

"And yet," the young man mused, "we got in only four days ago. Facts
really don't count for much, do they? It's all in the way people feel:
even in little things."

Thea winced, but she did not answer him. She put the telegram back in
its envelope and placed it carefully in one of the p