“That was certainly my impression, sir,” faltered Charlie. For he remembered that he himself had composed a newspaper item to that effect. “Here is the original circular under which the bonds were issued,” said Tamms, with dignity; and Charlie cast his eye over it timorously. There was certainly nothing in it about a guaranty, though Charlie had a distinct impression that when the bonds were “listed” on the Stock Exchange this had been the general understanding. “You must be thinking of some mere newspaper rumor,” added Tamms. “Very possibly, sir,” Charlie replied, meekly; and just then an elaborately dressed woman of rather flamboyant appearance passed through the glass-covered piazza in which they were sitting, and Mr. Tamms scrambled hastily upon his feet and bowed. Charlie followed suit, though surprised at this unusual demonstration of his impassive principal; and as he looked at him, he fancied that he saw the faintest trace of some embarrassment. “She is not a guest of the hotel,” said Tamms. “Her name is Beaumont, I believe; she owns an adjoining cottage.” “Dear me!” said Charlie. “That is very bad for people who own the stock.” “Own what stock?” said Tamms. “The Starbuck Oil,” said Charlie, in a tone as if adding “of course.” “Oh, ah, yes,” said Tamms. “It is most unfortunate. Still, they should have exchanged it for Allegheny Central when we gave them the chance.” Charlie suddenly remembered that all the stock had not been exchanged. “I suppose our people hold a majority, of course,” said Charlie. And again he looked at Tamms. But to this Mr. Tamms vouchsafed no answer; he apparently did not hear it, for he was already rising and putting on his gloves. “Shall we take a stroll?” “I should like nothing better,” said Charlie, heartily; and Tamms having sent for two cigars (for which, as Charlie noted, he paid fifty cents apiece), they took their way across the close-cropped lawn. “That, I am told,” said Mr. Tamms, pointing to a gayly lighted pagoda opposite, “which they call the Maryland Club, is in reality nothing better than a gambling house.” “Dear me!” said Charlie. “It is an outrage upon our civilization that such social plague-spots are openly tolerated;” a sentiment from which Charlie could not withhold his assent, though he was glad the darkness prevented Mr. Tamms from seeing the smile which accompanied it. Nothing more was said between them for some time; Mr. Tamms was evidently wrapped in thoughts of business, and Charlie for his part was considering that previous state of her existence, in which he had known Mrs. Beaumont before.