r portrait, she would probably like a chance to compare it with
the original."

"On the contrary, she may think, that having so recent a copy, the
original would be superfluous."

"I fancy I'd risk it," her uncle returned, with a smile, as they rose
from the table.

And so it was arranged. Helen's mother entered her expected protest,
and was promptly overruled. Trunks were packed and letters were
written; among them one by Silas Osgood to James Wintermuth. And at
length, as September was drawing to a close, Miss Maitland boarded the
Knickerbocker Limited one day, and the town of her nativity was
speedily left behind her.

On the very afternoon of her departure the office of the Massachusetts
Light, Heat, and Traction Company was the scene of an unusual, and, to
most of the participants, a disquieting conference. The shimmering
face of the big, dark, mahogany table reflected many a perplexed
expression, and its substantial supports found their impeccable varnish
menaced by a number of restless and uneasy boots. The directors of the
company, assembled for their monthly meeting, found that, instead of
the customary conventionality of procedure, a thing strangely
impertinent and unexpected demanded their surprised attention.

Ordinarily these meetings were simple in the extreme, being merely
ratifications of what the President had done and approvals of what he
said he purposed to do. To the somewhat bored group of representative
financial figureheads around the table Mr. Hurd would read a sheet of
figures telling how many million miles the company had carried one
passenger during the previous month--such reports are always reduced to
absurdities--and would inform them of such plans as he chose to intrust
to their confidence, and would then suggest the declaration of the
usual dividend. To this the directors would unanimously assent. Then
they punctiliously received each man his golden eagle, and a motion to
adjourn closed the ceremony.

To-day had come an astonishing innovation in procedure. Instead of
suavely instructing them what they should vote to do, Mr. Hurd was
behaving in a most oddly uncharacteristic fashion. He was asking their
advice. This amounted to a _bouleversement supreme_ of the usual order
of things, and it was no wonder that there was disquietude among his
hearers.

"It has been represented to me," he had tersely said, "that if a large
fire should involve our Pemberton Street barn and