Twice he got up and went forward as it to mount the steps of the Club; but both times he changed his mind. Then, near at hand, occupying a neighboring basement, he spied a small shop. In the low window of the shop, among hats and articles of handiwork, there swung a bird-cage. He hurried across the street, entered the store, still without losing sight of the steps of the Club, and called forward the brown-cheeked, foreign-looking girl busily engaged with some embroidery in the rear of the place. A question, an eager reply, a taking down of the canary, and he went out, carrying the cage. Very erect he was as he strode back to the Club. Here was a person about to go through with an unpleasant program, but virtuously determined on his course. His jaw was set grimly. He climbed to the storm-door, and rang twice, keeping his finger on the bell longer than was necessary. Then, very deliberately, he adjusted his _pince-nez_. A maid answered his ring--a maid well past middle-age, with gray hair, and an air of authority. She looked her displeasure at his prolonged summoning. "Miss Crosby is here," he began; "I mean the young woman who just came in." He was very curt, very military; and ignored the reproof in her manner. "Please say that Mr. Hull has come." The maid promptly admitted him. But to make sure that he would not fail in his purpose to see Clare--that she would not escape from the Club as quietly as she had left Tottie's, he now lifted the bird-cage into view. "Tell Miss Crosby that Mr. Hull has brought the canary," he added. "Very well,"--the servant went up the stairs at a leisurely pace that was irritating. She did not return. Instead, Clare herself appeared at the top of the staircase, and descended slowly, looking calmly at him as she came. Her hat was off, and she had tidied her hair. Something in her manner caused him to move his right arm, as if he would have liked to screen the cage. She glanced at the bird, then at him. Her look disconcerted him. His _pince-nez_ dropped to the end of its ribbon, and clinked musically against a button. She did not speak until she reached his side. "I just called the Northrups on the 'phone and asked for you," she began. "Oh?" He made as if to set the cage down. "You'd better bring it into the sitting-room," she said. "Yes." He reddened. The sitting-room of the Club was a full sister to that garish front-parlor of Tottie's, but a sister tastefully dressed. The woodwork was ivory. The walls were covered with silk tapestry in which an old-blue shade predominated. The curtains of velvet, and the chairs upholstered in the same material, were of a darker blue that toned in charmingly with the walls. Oriental rugs covered the floor. "You need not have brought an--excuse," Clare observed, as she closed the door to the hall. "Well, I thought," he explained, smiling a little sheepishly, "that perhaps----"