y.

He came in looking a florist shop. We arranged them, and waited and
waited and waited. At two o'clock, the most disappointed of mortals,
we sat down to luncheon.

"I am afraid something has happened," I said, and the anxiety and
disappointment threw me into such a headache that I spent the afternoon
in a darkened room, and had tea and toast sent in for my dinner.

About eight o'clock Aubrey persuaded me to go out for a little walk, so
we started. We had no sooner got outside our door than we began to
feel impending calamity in the air. The elevator was not running.
There was a paper saying so fastened to the bell. We walked down five
flights of stairs, occasionally looking at each other ominously. My
headache vanished as if by magic. I felt strong and murderous.

On the table in the hall lay a dozen letters, which had arrived during
the day, a telegram from Uncle John, asking us to dine at the Waldorf
and share their box to see Irving and Terry and to sup with them at
Sherry's that night. It was then a quarter to nine. We were not
dressed, and we were half an hour from the theatre. There was also a
note from Mrs. Scofield's daughter saying that they had come at
half-past twelve, but found no hall-boy, no janitor, and the elevator
not running, so, after vainly trying to communicate with us, they had
been obliged to go home again.

I simply wept with rage and mortification. Aubrey started for the
basement with me at his heels. I felt that the Angel could not cope
alone with such a situation. We found Mrs. Harris pale, trembling, and
apologetic. She said her husband was not there.

Aubrey turned away breathing vengeance.

"Aubrey," I said, firmly, "Harris is in that room."

"No, no, Mrs. Jardine! Indeed he is not!" insisted the little woman.

"I am sorry for you, Mrs. Harris," I said, "but you must allow me to
see for myself." And with that I made as if to pass her, but Aubrey
held me back.

"I'll go," he said.

He went and found Harris calmly reading the newspaper, with his feet on
the mantel.

"Why isn't the elevator running?" demanded Aubrey.

"Because the hall-boy left this morning, and there was nobody to run
it," said the man, impudently keeping his seat, with his hat on, and
not even putting his feet on the floor.

"Is it broken?" asked my husband.

"It is not. I turned the power off, that's all."

"Why didn't you run it yourself?" asked Aubrey.

"It isn't my business. Tha