"Yes--to-morrow. However, that doesn't matter."

"It does, if you wanted to. But, see here, ma'am, I've thought of
something."

"My name is Mrs. May," said Angela, smiling.

"I know--I mean, are you willing I should call you it, just as if I was
really acquainted with you?"

"Of course. Why not?"

"Well, you see," he explained. "What I don't know about society and the
right way to act with ladies could be put in a book bigger than the Bible.
And I wouldn't offend you, for--for a good deal."

"I feel certain you'd know the 'right way to act,' by instinct," Angela
assured him. "You were splendid to me that night in New York. Very few men
would have known how to do what you did."

"Thank you a thousand times for saying that, though I don't deserve one
word," Nick burst out, flushing again, and hoping she did not see, because
he had a trying task before him. "But my idea is this. Couldn't you let me
lend the money you need, and go on when you like, instead of waiting? You
could send it back, any old way--check or anything. And I wouldn't care a
hang--I wouldn't care a red cent--when."

"Oh, I couldn't----" Angela began, but the look on his face stopped her.
It was so strong a mixture of disappointment and chagrin, as to make him
instantly pathetic in her eyes. She had just said that he was a man whose