A new, strange look shone out from the keen, searching eyes of O'Day. His interest in the woman had deepened. “And you have no misgivings and are sure you will get your rent?” “Just as sure as I am that me name is Kitty Cleary, and that is not altogether because you're an Irishman but because ye are a gentleman.” This time O'Day made her a little bow, the lines of his face softening, his eyes sparkling with sudden humor at her speech. He stepped forward, called to the man who was still handling the luggage, and, in the tone of one ordering his groom, said: “Here, Mike!--Did you say his name was Mike?--Go, if you please, to this address, just below Union Square-I will write it on a card--any time to-day after six o'clock. I will meet you there and show you the trunks--there are two of them.” Then he turned to Otto, still standing by, a silent and absorbed spectator. “I have also to thank you, Mr. Kling. It was very kind of you, and I am sure I shall be very happy here. After I am settled I shall come over and see whether I can be of some service to you in going through your stock. There may be some other things that are valuable which you have mislaid. And then, again, I should like to see something more of your little daughter--she is very lovable, and so is her dog.” “Vell, vy don't you come now? Masie don't go to school to-day, and I keep her in de shop. I been tinkin' since you and Kitty been talkin'--Kitty don't make no mistakes: vot Kitty says goes. Look here, Kitty, vun minute--come close vunce--I vant to speak to you.” O'Day, who had been about to give a reason why he could not “come now,” and who had halted in his reply in order to hunt his pockets for a card on which to write his address, hearing Kling's last words, withdrew to the office in search of both paper and pencil. “Now, see here, Kitty! Dot mans is a vunderful man--de most VUNDERFUL man I have seen since I been in 445. You know dem cups and saucers vat I bought off dot olt vomans who came up from Baltimore? Do you know dot two of 'em is vorth more as ten dollars? He find dot out joost as soon as he pick 'em up, and he find out about my chairs, and vich vas fakes and vich vas goot. Vot you tink of my givin' him a job takin' my old cups and my soup tureens and stuff and go sell 'em someveres? I don't got nobody since dot tam fool of a Svede go avay. Vat you tink?” “He can have my room--that's what I think! You heard what I said to him! That's all the answer you'll get out of me, Otto Kling.” “An' you don't tink dot he'd git avay vid de stuff und ve haf to hunt up or down Second Avenue in the pawn-shops to git 'em back?” “No, I don't!” “Den, by golly, I take him on, und I gif him every veek vat he pay you in board.” Kitty broke into one of her derisive laughs. “YOU WILL! Ain't that good of ye? Ye'll give him enough to starve on, that's what it is. Ye ought to be ashamed of yourself, Otto Kling!” “Vell, but I don't know vat he is vurth yet.”