A young woman with a purple parasol stood beside him, laughing merrily,
and at her side was a tall, dark, very good-looking young man.

"I couldn't go without saying good-by to you, Mr. Rollins, and thanking
you again for the care you have taken of me," she was saying. He finally
saw the little gloved hand that was extended toward him. Her companion was
carrying her jacket and the little travelling-bag.

"Oh--er--good-by, and don't mention it," he stammered, struggling to his
feet. "Was I asleep?"

"Asleep at your post, sir. Mr. Dudley--oh, this is Mr. Dudley, Mr.
Rollins--came in ten minutes ago and found--us--both--asleep."

"Isn't it lucky Mr. Dudley happens to be an honest man?" said Rossiter,
in a manner so strange that the smile froze on the face of the other man.
The unhappy barrister caught the quick glance that passed between them,
and was vaguely convinced that they had been discussing him while he
slept. Something whispered to him that they had guessed the nature of his
business.

"My telegram was not delivered to him until this morning. Wasn't it
provoking?" she was saying.

"What time is it now?" asked Rossiter.

"Half-past seven," responded Dudley rather sharply. His black eyes were
fastened steadily upon those of the questioner. "Mr. Van Haltford's man
came in and got Miss Dering's telegram yesterday, but it was not delivered