one in speaking about his author drew Mr. Vandeford still nearer to
her, both in body and in spirit. He leaned slightly against the desk and
smiled again.

"May I send you seats for some night the first week of 'The Purple
Slipper'?" he asked, with the greatest deference. And it must be
recorded that in making the offer Mr. Vandeford was not bidding for the
distinction conferred on him in the next few seconds.

"That will be delightful," exclaimed the young woman. "And, Mr.
Vandeford, here is a latch-key to the front door, to use to-night if you
and Miss Adair are a little later than midnight in coming home. Remember
to give it to her after you have put her inside the door and tell her to
hang it on the rack opposite the number of her room. There she comes
now!"

Mr. Vandeford accepted the latch-key of the Y. W. C. A. with awe and
looked at it as he would have looked at a decoration handed him by the
Metropolitan governors. Then he glanced up and beheld Miss Adair
displaying herself to his new-found friend.

"You are very pretty, my dear," she was saying with an affectionate
smile. "Just let me put a pin here in this fold of lace," and expertly
she reefed up the last fold of rose-point that Miss Lindsey had snipped
down in a hurried finish of her remodeling. Strange to say Mr.
Vandeford felt still more further drawn to his young Christian
Association friend.

"Now run along, both of you, and have a pleasant evening," she said to
them as she turned to answer the telephone.

"That girl is an extremely delightful person," Mr. Vandeford remarked,
while he and Valentine were tucking Miss Adair under the linen robe in
the car.

"I'm so glad you are getting used to the Y. W. C. A.," Miss Adair
answered, giving him a delighted smile as he seated himself beside her
while Valentine started the car up the avenue. "Mr. Height said it was
like being forced to go to church in a strange town and getting into
somebody's cozy corner by mistake."

"I wish I were married to that girl, to-night," Mr. Vandeford exclaimed
out of the sudden rush of anxiety that had overtaken him by this
fledgling author's mention of his leading man.

"Then who would be taking me out, out on Broadway?" asked Miss Adair
with a little laugh that had a more distinctly friendly note in it than
it had before held for him.

"Both of us," replied Mr. Vandeford, with an answering laugh that
sounded much too young in his own ears. "You'll need two."

"Am