guardian, but it was too good to be true. Suddenly, at Fifty-third
Street, he spied a young woman at the other end of the car. There were
not more than nine passengers, so that each person might have had a
matter of half a dozen seats a piece, but Strong suddenly felt a demand
on his politeness, and reason was nothing to him. He rose and marched
the forty feet or so between himself and the woman, and, standing in
front of her, lifted, with some difficulty, his hat.

"Won't you take my seat, madam?" he inquired, with a smile of perfect
courtesy.

The young person was a young person of common-sense and she caught the
situation. She flashed a reassuring glance at Rex, hovering distressed
in the background, and shook her head at Strong politely. "No--no, thank
you," she said; "I think I can find a seat at this end that will do
nicely."

"Madam, I insist," Strong addressed her again earnestly.

"No, really," The young woman was embarrassed, for the eyes of the car
were on her. "Thank you so much," she said finally; "I think I'd better
stay here."

Strong bent over and put a great hand lightly on her arm. "Madam, as
gen'leman I cannot, cannot allow it. Madam, you mush take my seat.
Pleash, madam, do not make scene. 'S pleasure to me, 'sure you--greates'
pleasure," and beneath this courtly urgency the flushed girl walked
shamefacedly the length of the almost empty car, and sat down in
Strong's seat, while that soul of chivalry put his hand through a strap
and so stood till his ministering angel extracted him from the train at