n have Willard."

Miss Ward was not to be diverted. "Neil's father did keep a saloon, but
he died when Neil was a baby. His uncle that he lives with keeps a store
at the Falls, and that's all right. His aunt took in washing, but his
mother never did. Charles Brady does get drunk, but Maggie drives him to
it. She's getting awfully wild. She's a perfect beauty, though, and I
wish I had her hair. But Charlie's only Neil's second cousin. And Neil
is so quiet and pleasant, not like that Brady boy that was in my sister
Lutie's crowd; just as fascinating, but Neil doesn't take liberties."

"I'm getting sleepy, Nat."

"Judy, the way I feel about Neil, about Irish boys, is this: we can't go
with them afterward, but while they're in school with us, they are just
as good as we are, and we ought to give them just as good a time as we
can. If you know what I mean."

"I don't. I'm sleepy."

"I'm not. I shan't shut my eyes." But Miss Ward did shut them. "Judy."

"Well?"

"Judy, Abraham Lincoln split rails."

"Cheer up. The Warren Worth Comedy Company is going to play at the Hall
next week, and Warren Worth has perfectly beautiful eyes, too."

"Not like Neil's."

"Go to sleep, Nat."

But Judith did not go to sleep until after an hour of staring wide-eyed
into the dark, and she did not confide to Natalie or any one what had
happened in the intermission after the schottische.

"You act restless," Willard complained to her then. "You hardly looked
at me all through the encore."

"I'll look at you now, but get me some water first," she directed, and
having disposed of him, slipped out alone into the dim and draughty
corridor. Odd Fellows' Building, the centre of various business
activities by day, looked deserted and forlorn at night, when the suites
of offices were dark and closed, and the hall where they danced, gayly
lighted and tenanted, was a little island of brightness in the
surrounding dark.

"Neil," Judith called softly, "Neil, where are you? I saw you come out
here. I know you're here." The corridor was empty, but several office
doors opened on it, and on one of them she saw Charlie Brady's name. She
knocked at it. "You're in there. I know you are. Let me in." She tried
the door, found it unlocked, and opened it. The room was dark, faintly
lighted by the street lamps outside the one uncurtained window, where he
sat with his head in his hands, huddled in a discouraged heap over
Charlie Brady's desk. Judith came a