with voluminous trousers about them made a ludicrous sight. ``He
doesn't want it,'' said Victor. ``Thank you just the same.''

``But I want him to have it,'' said Jane.

With a significant unconscious glance at her costume Dorn said:
``Those costumes haven't reached our town yet.''

``He did some work for me. I owe it to him.''

``He's my sister's little boy,'' said Dorn, with his amiable,
friendly smile. ``We mustn't start him in the bad way of
expecting pay for politeness.''

Jane colored as if she had been rebuked, when in fact his tone
forbade the suggestion of rebuke. There was an unpleasant
sparkle in her eyes as she regarded the young man in the baggy
suit, with the basket on his arm. ``I beg your pardon,'' said
she coldly. ``I naturally didn't know your peculiar point of
view.''

``That's all right,'' said Dorn carelessly. ``Thank you, and
good day.'' And with a polite raising of the hat and a manner of
good humored friendliness that showed how utterly unconscious he
was of her being offended at him, he hastened across the street
and went in at the gate where the boy had vanished. And Jane had
the sense that he had forgotten her. She glanced nervously up at
the window to see whether Selma Gordon was witnessing her
humiliation--for so she regarded it. But Selma was evidently
lost in a world of her own. ``She doesn't love him,'' Jane