help, and finally
went off hand in hand with her, and what the Miser said of her, and
after all the best the Candy Man could do was to go back to the
Reporter's phrase.

He had withdrawn a little behind a stack of breakfast foods where he
could watch her, wondering that the clerks did not drop their several
customers without ceremony and fly to do her bidding. She stood beside
the counter and made overtures to a large Maltese cat who reposed there
in solemn majesty. Beside the Maltese rose a pyramid of canned goods,
and a placard announced, "Of interest to light house keepers." Upon this
her eyes rested in evident surprise. "I didn't know there were any
lighthouses in this part of the country," she said half aloud.

[Illustration: MARGARET ELIZABETH]

The Maltese laid a protesting paw upon her arm. It was not, however, the
absurdity of her remark, but the cessation of her caresses he protested
against. At the same moment her eyes met those of the Candy Man, across
the stack of breakfast foods. His were laughing, and hers were instantly
withdrawn. He saw her colour mounting as she exclaimed, addressing the
cat, "How perfectly idiotic!"

He longed to assure her it was a perfectly natural mistake, the placard
being but an amateurish affair; but he lacked the courage.

And then the grocer, having disposed of another customer, advanced to
serve her, and the grocer's daughter, it seemed, was also at leisure;
and though he would have preferred to watch the Girl of All Others doing
the family marketing in a most competent manner, a thoughtful finger
upon her lip, the Candy Man was forced to attend to his own business.
In selecting a basket of grapes and ordering them sent to St. Mary's
Hospital, he presently lost sight of her.

Once since then she had passed his corner on her way up the street.
That was all until to-night. It seemed probable that she lived in the
neighbourhood. Perhaps the Reporter would know.

Just here the recollection that he was a Candy Man brought him up short.
His bright dreams began to fade. The Girl of All Others should of course
be able to recognise true worth, even in a Candy Wagon, but such is the
power of convention he was forced to own to himself it was more than
possible she might not. Or if she did, her friends----

But these disheartening reflections were curtailed by the sudden
appearance of a stout, grey horse under the conduct of a small boy. The
shafts were lowered, the grey horse p