eir coffee, Marsh said, "I imagine you have
seen very little of Chicago, Miss Atwood?"

"Yes," she admitted. "One takes less interest in things when
sight-seeing trips must be made alone. You know, I have not seemed to make
any friends in Chicago."

"When I can spare the time, I want to take you around a little. I am
sure that you would enjoy the art museum, for art is akin to music
and from what you have told me I know that you are deeply interested
in that."

"Yes," she replied, "music has always been my chief companion. The
dreams that other girls confide in chums, I have told to my piano."

Marsh lit a cigarette and smoked for a moment in silence.

"How would you like to take a little trip with me out to one of the
North Shore suburbs this afternoon?" he inquired.

"I should enjoy it very much," she said.

"Well," Marsh went on, "there is a house out at Hubbard Woods that I
want to look over this afternoon for a friend. This is just the day
for a stroll along the autumn-leafed roads. I thought perhaps you
would like to go with me."

Marsh aided her with her wraps and they walked across to the
elevated railroad. At Evanston, a few miles north of the city, they
changed to the suburban electric line. The girl took a lively
interest in the pretty suburban towns through which they passed, and
it seemed to Marsh as if they had but just boarded the train when
the conductor called out their station and they alighted.

The place was well named. A lonely little station set down in the
midst of thick woods, and a road that wound slightly downhill and
away among the trees were all that met the eye. They strolled down
this road, passing occasional homes. These were usually well back
from the road and almost concealed among the trees. In fact, in some
places the house itself was not visible, the only indication of a
residence being an ornamental gateway, or sometimes just a simple
driveway disappearing into the woods. Fallen leaves rustled about
their feet, but much of the foliage remained on the trees. Some of
this was still green, setting off the masses of autumn colors that
ranged from a sombre brown to vivid reds and many shades of yellow.

"And a great city only a few miles away," mused Marsh, giving voice
to both their thoughts.

"It is beautiful," admitted the girl, "but so lonely and quiet.
Somehow, one, feels so far, far away from everything. Perhaps the
gloomy day affects me, but it seems as if the air wer