of him. He
wrote an answer to quite a few advertisements in Toronto papers; those
to which he got a reply asked for references, as did those written in
answer to his own insertions. Disgusted, he stopped advertising and
answering ads.

"By Japers," he said to himself one day, "I'll beat it to
Buffalo--there are no Canadian Banks over there!"

The idea took root in him. Also, he was counselled to leave the happy
home of the Hamilton gardener by the actions of Elizabeth. She not
only persisted in her cream-and-sugar attentions, but wheedled the
"hired man" into taking her places, and finally began to speak of him
as her "friend." Evan was willing to be friendly with most people, but
the significant proprietorship implied in the tone with which Liz said
"friend" was extremely discomfiting. The ex-clerk saw plainly that he
must make a get-away.

Toronto offered nothing, neither did Hamilton; they were both bank
strongholds. Buffalo, on the other hand, was in another country--a
country to which almost every young Canadian turns his face, if not his
steps, at one time or another. It was free from Canadian influence, a
new world in fact, and yet only a short distance away. Inquiring at
the ticket office as to fare, Evan learned that in two days there was
an excursion to New York for only twice as much as the regular fare to
Buffalo. New York! The name suggested adventure. Why not go there
instead of Buffalo? It was only a night's or a day's journey from
Toronto!

New York it would be! Evan sent the news sailing to Henty and Robb,
but not home. Hometon would find it out when he had a position in the
American metropolis. He called and bade Hazel Morton good-bye, and
insisted on taking her out to the theatre. On their way home they
dropped into a cafe for ice-cream. Again they met Miss Hall of Mt.
Alban. She stared hard at Evan while he was not looking, and kept
whispering to her lady companion.

"We don't care, Hazel, do we?" said Nelson.

Miss Morton smiled:

"What if she should go back to the Mount and tell Julia?"

Evan felt his heart sink.

"Hazel," he said, with awe, "you're not serious, are you?"

"Are you, Evan?"

"No. Why, I haven't heard from her in months."

The Morton girl looked at him in surprise.

"Do you think," she asked, wide-eyed, "that months mean anything to a
woman?"

He showed his distress unmistakably. Hazel at last began to laugh,
softly, with increasing merriment