"And here she is," said Mrs. Porter.

The door opened, and Ruth appeared. She looked, to Bailey, insufferably
radiant and pleased with herself.

"Bailey!" she cried. "Whatever brings my little Bailey here, when he
ought to be working like a good boy in Wall Street?"

"I will tell you," Bailey's demeanour was portentous.

"He's frowning," said Ruth. "You have been stirring his hidden depths,
Aunt Lora!"

Bailey coughed.

"Ruth!"

"Bailey, _don't_! You don't know how terrible you look when you're
roused."

"Ruth, kindly answer me one question. Aunt Lora informs me that you are
going to marry this man Winfield. Is it or is it not true?"

"Of course it's true."

Bailey drew in his breath. He gazed coldly at Ruth, bowed to Mrs.
Porter, and smoothed the nap of his hat.

"Very good," he said stonily. "I shall now call upon this Mr. Winfield