have been floating in clouds of rose color. If he could persuade
Little Ann to take him in hand when she'd had time to "try him out,"
even Hutchinson could not utterly flout a fellow who was making his
steady twenty-five per on a big paper, and was on such terms with his
boss that he might get other chances. Gee! but he was a fellow that
luck just seemed to chase, anyhow! Look at the other chaps, lots of
'em, who knew twice as much as he did, and had lived in decent homes
and gone to school and done their darned best, too, and then hadn't
been able to get there! It didn't seem fair somehow that he should run
into such pure luck.

The day arrived when Galton was to give his decision. Tembarom was
going to hand in his page, and while he was naturally a trifle
nervous, his nervousness would have been a hopeful and not unpleasant
thing but that the Transatlantic sailed in two days, and in the
Hutchinson's rooms Little Ann was packing her small trunk and her
father's bigger one, which held more models and drawings than
clothing. Hutchinson was redder in the face than usual, and indignant
condemnation of America and American millionaires possessed his soul.
Everybody was rather depressed. One boarder after another had wakened
to a realization that, with the passing of Little Ann, Mrs. Bowse's
establishment, even with the parlor, the cozy-corner, and the second-
hand pianola to support it, would be a deserted-seeming thing. Mrs.
Bowse felt the tone of low spirits about the table, and even had a
horrible secret fear that certain of her best boarders might decide to
go elsewhere, merely to change surroundings from which they missed
something. Her eyes were a little red, and she made great efforts to
keep things going.

"I can only keep the place up when I've no empty rooms, "she had said