I soon made the acquaintance of Mr. Glover. In pursuance of my plans, I presented myself at Mr. Rackstraw's office every day at a certain hour, for the purpose of seeing Jessie home. I had of course previously consulted Jessie, and she had acquiesced in the arrangement. It was a serious encroachment upon my working hours, but I made up for it in the night, and between sunrise and sunrise I always performed a fair day's work. On the very first occasion of my presenting myself at Mr. Rackstraw's office, I found Mr. Glover there. Having sent in my name to Jessie, I waited in an outer room, the walls of which were lavishly decorated with paintings and photographs of actors and actresses, in the proportion of about one of the former to twenty of the latter. As I was studying these, Jessie made her appearance, followed by Mr. Glover; she was waving him off lightly, and saying as she entered, 'No, thank you; I will not trouble you to-day. Chris has come to see me home.' 'Oh,' he answered, without casting a glance in my direction. 'Chris has come to see you home! Is Chris your brother?' 'No,' she said, 'I haven't a brother or a sister in the world.' He condescended to look at me after this, and held out his hand to me with smiling cordiality. I took it awkwardly, for I felt myself but a common person by his side. 'Chris and I must become better acquainted,' he said. 'I remember now; I saw this young gentleman at Miss West's on the night of your performance there. He threw you two bouquets.' Jessie nodded. 'And very handsome bouquets they were,' he continued; 'he eclipsed us all by his gallantry; but I had no idea I was to have the pleasure that night of making your acquaintance, Jessie, or I might have entered the field against him. Any friend of yours _must_ be a friend of mine.' Then he bade us both good-day, without any attempt to press his attentions upon Jessie. Jessie asked me what I thought of him, and I could not help answering that he seemed to be a gentleman, but made some demur to his addressing her by her Christian name. 'Oh, that is the fashion in the profession,' said Jessie carelessly; there is nothing in that.' 'He is not an actor, is he, Jessie?' 'No; he is something in the City.' This vague definition of many a man's occupation, common as it is, was new to me, and I inquired what the 'something' was. Jessie could not enlighten me. I continued my inquiries by asking her how she knew that he was something in the City. He himself had told her, Mr. Rackstraw had told her, and young ladies whose acquaintance she had made at Mr. Rackstraw's had also told her. 'He is at Mr. Rackstraw's every day, Jessie?' I said. 'Nearly every day, Chris,' she answered, and closed the subject of conversation by saying that, at all events, Mr. Glover was a perfect gentleman.