terrupted smiling.

"Oh, is it you, Mr. McRae? I--didn't know--I thought it was--some one
else," she stammered.

Roderick looked puzzled, but the next moment he understood. Just
within the rays of the electric light, across the street, was Afternoon
Tea Willie, waiting faithfully with chattering teeth and benumbed toes.
He stood and stared at Roderick as they passed, and then slowly
followed at a distance, the picture of abject desolation. Roderick
found it almost impossible to keep from laughing, until he began to
consider his own case. He had plunged headlong into her presence, and
now he felt he ought to apologise. He tried to, but she stopped him
charmingly.

"Oh, indeed, I wanted to see you, before you go away," she said, and
Roderick felt immensely flattered that she knew so much about his
affairs as to be aware that he was going away.

"Yes? What can I do for you?" he asked shyly.

"I wanted to ask about poor Billy Perkins. Mr. Wilbur got work for
him, you know."

"Indeed, my father tells me it was you did the good deed," declared
Roderick warmly.

"No, no, I only helped. But I am anxious about Billy." She spoke as
though Roderick were as interested in the Perkins family as his father.
"Is there any one up at Mr. Hamilton's camp, I wonder, who would keep
an eye on him. He is all right if he's only watched, so that he can't
get whiskey. There's young Mr. Hamilton, he's going, isn't he?"

"Yes." Roderick felt that if the young man mentioned watched Fred
Hamilton and kept him from drink it was all that could be expected of
him. However, he might try. "I'll speak to him," he said cordially,
"and see if he can do anything for Billy. I see you've taken some of
my father's family under your care," he added admiringly.

"Oh no. I'm just helping a little. I'm afraid I'm not prompted by
such unselfish motives as your father is. I visit down here just for
something to do and to keep from being lonely."

It was the first time she had made any reference to herself. Roderick
seized the opportunity.

"You don't go out among the young people enough," he suggested. She
did not answer for a moment. She could not tell him that she was very
seldom invited in the circles where he moved. She had been doomed to
disappointment in Miss Graham's friendship, for after her first
generous outburst the young lady seemed to have forgotten all about her.

"I like to come here," she said at last. "I think it