Grumbling at himself, he passed into the restaurant. Gabe offered him the choice of various tables; he selected one which commanded a view of the entrances and ordered a perfunctory "Scotch." Nervous and anxious, he was more troubled than he cared to admit even to himself. Fortunately, there were not many people in the cafe; and his gaze, wandering about the place, soon halted before the small alcove in the east end containing a table with wine glasses, in waiting, set for a large party. The clock, back of the cigarstand, said it was five minutes after eleven. Bansemer impatiently watched the two doors leading to the street, and was beginning to wonder whether the message had reached the old clerk, when presently, the uncouth shape of Droom, appeared slinking through the so-called ladies' entrance, with the shrinking attitude of one unaccustomed to fashionable restaurants and doubtful of his reception. Bansemer motioned to him. "Just as soon as I can get my check," he was saying, at the same time, beckoning to a waiter; "we'll move out of this. It will be crowded in--I never thought, a stall at Chapin & Gore's will be better. Here, waiter! My check! I'm in a hurry!--the devil!" As the exclamation burst from his lips, there came down the narrow steps and through a door quickly thrown open by a waiter, a number of gay, fashionably dressed people, all smiling and trembling with the cold. Immediately, this party attracted the attention of the room. Waiters rushed hither and thither relieving the ladies of their costly lace and fur wraps, and the men of their heavy overcoats. Of the expected theatre-comers, these were the first to arrive; but presently others followed, and soon the quiet cafe of the early evening became transformed into one of bustle and excitement by the eager, animated throng. With dismay Bansemer noticed that those to whom his attention had been attracted were blocking his way to the doors; escape was out of the question. Reluctantly, he returned to his seat and ordered the clerk to take the one opposite him. Then, scanning the party making its passage to the alcove, he perceived three or four men whom he knew, and presently, to his surprise and consternation-his son. The recognition was mutual, Graydon making his way around a small table in order to affectionately greet him. As he approached, his eyes fastened themselves on his father's companion. With amazement, he recognised the queer figure of the lanky, gangling Droom; but too kind-hearted and well-bred to allow his features in the slightest degree to express the astonishment which he felt at sight of such a comic incongruity, the young man voiced a few kindly words to the old man, while from the table in the alcove, where the smart, little supper party were seating themselves, Miss Cable was smiling her cheery recognition to her prospective father-in-law; then Graydon made his way back to his seat by her side.