Ever since last Christmas Alec has been running down to New York about every two weeks. There was a big order that he was trying to secure, besides some sort of an arrangement he wanted to work up with some rich men down there to increase the capital stock of the business, I think he said. I have an idea, though I never asked, that if he could have worked that arrangement it would have saved the business from peril of failing. Alec used to stay in New York about three days usually, and always came home a little more worried, anxious, and discouraged than when he started. This time he had been away almost two weeks. I had had only one short note from him written the day after he left home. Since then I had not heard from him until his telegram had arrived announcing he would reach Hilton on the midnight from New York. It was a cold blustering night for April, and before I went to bed myself, I went up into Alec's third-floor room, turned on the heat, filled a hot-water bag and stuck it down between the cold sheets of his bed. I must have been sleeping very soundly when Alec stole into my room at twelve-thirty. I didn't know he was in the house, until I felt his hand on my shoulder and his gentle, "Hello, Bobbie!" I woke up with a glad start and found him sitting on the side of my bed. "My, what a sleeper!" he said and leaned down and kissed my forehead. I knew from the first whiff that Alec must have been sitting in the smoking-car (he doesn't smoke himself) and I drew in a fine, long breath before I spoke. "Oh, Alec," I exclaimed, "how beautifully New Yorky you smell!" "Do I, funny Bobbikins?" he laughed at me, and at the sound of that name which Alec had not called me by for six months, a thrill of new courage ran through me. I sat up. "Alec," I said, "you've brought good news. I _know_ it! I _know_ it! I knew we couldn't fail. I've felt it all along. I knew Father's dear old business wouldn't go back on us. I had a feeling that _this_ trip to New York would be a lucky one." "I've been farther than New York, Bobbie. I've been to Pinehurst, North Carolina," Alec announced. "To Pinehurst! Mercy! Whatever in the world--do tell me _every_ word. I'm simply crazy to hear all about it." "Well--" he began. "Say, Bobbikins," he broke off, "would you be very much surprised to know that it is--all right between Edith and me?" Alec might as well have struck off on a tangent about George Washington or Joan of Arc. "Edith?" I gasped.