head, slowly lifted his hat and joined them. At once Hilda
became silent, listening with rapt attention to the commonplaces
he delivered in sonorous, oracular tones.

As he deigned to talk only to Hilda, who was walking between
Sophie and him, Sophie was free to gaze round. She spied Otto
Heilig drooping dejectedly along. She adroitly steered her party
so that it crossed his path. He looked up to find himself
staring at Hilda. She frowned at this disagreeable apparition
into her happiness, and quickened her step. But Sophie, without
letting go of Hilda's hand, paused and spoke to Otto. Thus Hilda
was forced to stop and to say ungraciously: ``Mr. Feuerstein,
Mr. Heilig.''

Then she and Mr. Feuerstein went on, and Sophie drew the
reluctant Otto in behind them. She gradually slackened her pace,
so that she and Heilig dropped back until several couples
separated them from Hilda and Mr. Feuerstein. A few minutes and
Hilda and Mr. Feuerstein were seated on a bench in the deep
shadow of a tree, Sophie and Heilig walking slowly to and fro a
short distance away.

Heilig was miserable with despondent jealousy. He longed to
inquire about this remarkable-looking new friend of Hilda's. For
Mr. Feuerstein seemed to be of that class of strangers whom
Avenue A condemns on their very appearance. It associates
respectability with work only, and it therefore suspects those
who look as if they did not work and did not know how. Sophie
was soon answering of her own accord the questions Heilig as a
gentleman could not ask. ``You must have heard of Mr.