expressed her thanks and told of her safe arrival in Chicago. He could
scarcely refrain from leaping from his chair and shouting aloud in his
gladness.

The message she had written was simple. No stranger reading it would have
thought twice about it. If the guest had read it aloud, it would have
aroused no suspicion.

Y.W.C.A. Building, small parlor, three to-morrow.

He knew the massive building, for he had passed it many times, but never
had he supposed it could have any interest for him. Now suddenly his heart
warmed to the great organization of Christian women who had established
these havens for homeless ones in the heart of the great cities.

He looked up at the girl as she was passing the coffee on the other side
of the table, but not a flicker of an eyelash showed she recognized him.
She went through her duties and withdrew from the room, but though they
lingered long over the coffee, she did not return. When they went into
the other room, his interest in the family grew less and less. The
daughter of the house sat down at the piano, after leading him up to ask
her to sing, and chirped through several sentimental songs, tinkling out a
shallow accompaniment with her plump, manicured fingers. His soul revolted
at the thought that she should be here entertaining the company, while
that other one whose music would have thrilled them all stayed humbly in
the kitchen, doing some menial task.

He took his leave early in the evening and hurried back to his hotel. As
he crossed the street to hail a cab, he thought he saw a short, baggy
figure shambling along in the shadow on the other side, looking up at the