a working theory in the absence of any other. Elmendorf
strolled away discontentedly, and was presently overhauling books on
Brentano's counters, and there Cranston found him, and, when books were
the theme, found him more to his liking. They walked up to Cranston's
old home that afternoon together, and Elmendorf, as previously detailed,
made his first appearance before Mrs. Sergeant McGrath.

Later he strolled up to the Lambert Memorial, revolving many things in
his mind. With all the discomfort and uneasiness and foreboding
Forrest's sudden reappearance cost him, with all the embarrassment
likely to follow, one reflection had given him joy. There at least
within those walls was a proud and wilful girl whose spirit he had
longed to tame, whose distrust and defiance he had smarted under, but
who now would have to admit the truth of some of the most salient of his
accusations and prophecies with regard to Forrest. There was still
abundant opportunity for him to rejoice in that triumph. Wells did not
like him, but what of that? Wells was probably gone by this time, and
she would be there all alone, bending as usual over her typewriter. She
couldn't order him out or refuse him admittance, since Wells had never
yet done so. She would have to listen, and he would go and break to her
the news of Forrest's return,--of Forrest's return with Florence
Allison, of his luncheon with the magnates at the club to-day, of his
coming to dinner informally, like one of the family, at the Allisons'
to-night. It would be comfort to watch her sensitive face, thought
Elmendorf, and he meant to make the successive announcements as humorous
and lingering as his command of rhetoric would permit. His step was
light, his smile significant, his bearing quite debonair, as he turned
into the private hall-way and encountered the janitor at the first turn.
The janitor was Irish. "Misther Wells is gone--if it's him ye want,
sorr," said he, with scant civility, for the Celt had become imbued with
distaste for the Teuton.

"Then I'll see his secretary," answered Elmendorf, with his usual shrug,
and without a stop.

"Ye wouldn't, bedad, if I saw her first," said honest Maloney, as he
looked after the agitator. "Maneness goes wid the loikes of him, and
mischief and trouble wherever he sets his fut."

Springily did Elmendorf go up the echoing stairway, and then, reaching
the second floor, he saw fit to saunter, and that, too, with noiseless
footfall. He