f his moon. He began to be almost impatient
to reach his station and see the outcome of it all. Strangely enough,
he never reflected on the good advice which the young woman that
morning had given him as to the undesirable gentility of his general
appearance. He never considered that as a drawback. When he reached
his station he got off the train, went down the stairs, crossed the
avenue, and up a block to the next street. When he found the number
of which he was in search he hesitated a second. He wondered at what
door he should apply. It manifestly could not be the front door. He
therefore went farther down the street and gained the one running
parallel, by which means he could reach the rear entrance of the
house. It had no basement entrance under the front door. It was a new
building, and quite pretentious, the most pretentious of a new and
pretentious block. He traversed the small back yard, bending his
stately head under a grove of servants' clothes which were swinging
whitely from a net-work of lines, and knocked on the door. His knock
was answered by a woman, presumably a cook, and she looked like a
Swede. Unaccountably to him, she started back with a look of alarm
and nearly closed the door, and inquired in good English, with a
little accent, what he wanted. Carroll raised his hat and explained.

"I saw an advertisement for a coachman," he said, briefly, "and I
have come to apply for the place if it is not already filled."

To his utter amazement the door was closed violently in his face, and
he distinctly heard the bolt shot. He was completely at a loss to
account for such a proceeding. He remained standing, staring at the
blank front of the door, and a light flashed across the room inside
and caused him to look at the windows. The light had been carried
into a room at the back, but he saw in the pale dimness of the
kitchen a group of women and one boy, and they were all staring out
at him. Then the boy started on a run across the room, and he heard a
door slam. Carroll waited. He could not imagine what it was all
about, and a feeling of desperation was coming over him. It seemed to
him that he must find something to do, that he could not go home
again. The position of coachman began to seem desirable to him.
Charlotte need not know what he was doing; no one need know. He had
resolved to give another name, and he would soon find another
position. This would be a makeshift. In this he could at least keep
hims