She slipped out of her chair; he pursued. "If you will say such things

and then run into the dark corners," he muttered. But when Solomon

appeared with a water-pitcher they were ready for him.

"Now what has kept you all this time?" glared Glover, insincerely.

"I couldn't find any ice-water."

"Ice-water!"

"Every pipe is froze solid, but I chopped up some ice and brought that."

"Ice-water, you double-dyed idiot! Go get your candle."

"Yes, sir."

"Don't be so cross," whispered Gertrude. "You were so short with that

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poor fireman to-night, and he told me such a pitiful story about being

ordered out and having to go or lose his position----"

"Did Foley tell you that?"

"Yes."

"Surely, nerve runs in his family as well as his cousin's. The rascal

came because I hung up a little purse for a fireman at the roundhouse,

and he nearly had a fight with another fellow that wanted to cut him

out of the job."

"Such a cheat! How much did you offer him?"

"Not very much."

"But how much?"

"Twenty-five dollars, and, by heavens, he dunned me for it just after

we started."

"But his poor wife hung to his neck when he left----"

"No doubt. She has pulled all the hair out of his head twice that I

know of----"

"And I gave him my purse with all the money I had in it."

"How much?"

"About three hundred dollars."

"Three hundred dollars! Foley will lay off two months and take the

whole family back to Pittsburg. Now, here's your candle and chopped

ice and Mr. Battershawl."

Gertrude turned for a last whisper--"What should you say if papa came

down?"

"What should I say? He would probably say, 'Mr. Glover, I have your

room.' 'Don't mention it,' I should reply, 'I have your daughter.'"

But Mr. Brock did not come down.

Barely half an hour later, while Glover waited with anxiety at the foot

of the stairs, Gertrude reappeared, and with her loveliness all new,

walked shyly and haltingly down each step toward him.

Not a soul about the hotel office had stirred, and Glover led her to

the retired little parlor, which was warm and dim, to reassure himself

that the fluttering girl was all his own. Unable to credit the fulness

of their own happiness they sat confiding to each other all the sweet

trifles, now made doubly sweet, of their strange acquaintance. Before

six o'clock, and while their seclusion was still their own, a hot

breakfast was served to them where they sat, and day broke on storm

without and lovers within.




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