"He is," said Godmother. "He likes to come in here, once in a while,
for a cup of tea and an hour's chat. And I'm always glad to have him."

"I should think so!" agreed Mary Alice. "He ate nearly a whole plate
of toast."

Godmother laughed so heartily that Mary Alice was a little mystified.
She didn't see the joke in being hungry. She didn't even see it when
Godmother told her who the man was.

"Not really?" gasped Mary Alice. Godmother nodded. "Why, he told me
him_self_----!" Mary Alice began; and then stopped to put two and two
together. It was all very astounding, but there was no reason why what
he had told her and what Godmother said might not both be true.

"If I had _known_!" she said, sinking down, weak in the knees, into the
nearest chair.

"That was what gave him his happy hour," said Godmother. "You didn't
know! It is so hard for him to get away from people who know--to find
people who are able to forget. That's why he likes to come here; I try
to help him forget, for an hour, once in a while, at 'candle-lightin'
time.'"

"I see," murmured Mary Alice.

The man was one of those great world-powers of finance whose
transactions filled columns of the newspapers and were familiar to
almost every school child.