and Victor Dorn.''

She was so preoccupied that she rode away with only an absent
thank you for the small boy, in an older and much larger and
wider brother's cast-off shirt, suspenders and trousers. At the
corner of the avenue she remembered and turned her horse. There
stood the boy gazing after her with a hypnotic intensity that
made her smile. She rode back fumbling in her pockets. ``I beg
your pardon,'' said she to the boy. Then she called up to Selma
Gordon:

``Miss Gordon--please--will you lend me a quarter until
to-morrow?''

Selma looked up, stared dazedly at her, smiled absently at Miss
Hastings--and Miss Hastings had the strongest confirmation of her
suspicion that Selma had forgotten her and her visit the instant
she vanished from the threshold of the office. Said Selma: ``A
quarter?--oh, yes--certainly.'' She seemed to be searching a
drawer or a purse out of sight. ``I haven't anything but a five
dollar bill. I'm so sorry'' --this in an absent manner, with
most of her thoughts evidently still upon her work. She rose,
leaned from the window, glanced up the street, then down. She
went on:

``There comes Victor Dorn. He'll lend it to you.''

Along the ragged brick walk at a quick pace the man who had in
such abrupt fashion stormed Jane Hasting's fancy and taken
possession of her curiosity was advancing with a basket on his