the alert.

Dunham placed two chairs in the far corner of the inner parlor, where they
were practically alone, save for an occasional passer through the hall. He
put the girl into the most comfortable one, and then went to draw down the
shade, to shut a sharp ray of afternoon sunlight from her eyes. She sat
there and looked down upon her shabby shoes, her cheap gloves, her coarse
garments, and honored him for the honor he was giving her in this attire.
She had learned by sharp experience that such respect to one in her
station was not common. As he came back, he stood a moment looking down
upon her. She saw his eye rest with recognition upon the hat she wore, and
her pale cheeks turned pink.

"I don't know what you will think of my keeping this," she said shyly,
putting her hand to the hat, "but it seemed really necessary at the time,
and I haven't dared spend the money for a new one yet. I thought perhaps
you would forgive me, and let me pay you for it some time later."

"Don't speak of it," he broke in, in a low voice. "I am so glad you could
use it at all. It would have been a comfort to me if I had known where it
was. I had not even missed it, because at this time of year I have very
little use for it. It is my travelling hat."

He looked at her again as though the sight of her was good to him, and his
gaze made her quite forget the words she had planned to say.

"I am so glad I have found you!" he went on. "You have not been out of my
thoughts since I left you that night on the train. I have blamed myself
over and over again for having gone then. I should have found some way to
stand by you. I have not had one easy moment since I saw you last."