"The happy poor!" said the rector, smiling. "Why not come and help me in my work--who need you so much?" His voice had changed suddenly and he attempted to possess himself of the gloved hand that rested on his table, but it was suddenly withdrawn. "I thought we had settled that finally last year," said Miss Leigh firmly. "Ah, yes; but the heart is not so easily regulated." "Oh! yes, yours is. Why don't you try Aunt Sophia again?" "Try--again?--who?" The rector was manifestly somewhat embarrassed. "Why, Aunt Sophia--'the evening star,'" said Miss Leigh, laughing. "Who says--? Did she say I had--ah--addressed her?" "No--I got it from you. Come on now----" "Which way are you going? That is just my way. May I have the pleasure of driving up with you? I must go and see your aunt and welcome her back. One moment." He had shown the young lady out of the door. He now turned back and folding up the stock bulletin placed it carefully in his pocket. As the carriage with its smart team turned into one of the broader streets, two young men were standing in a window of a large building highly decorated, looking idly out on the street. They had just been talking of the threatened strike which the newspapers were discussing, as to which they held similar views. "I tell you what is the matter with those scoundrels," said the elder of the two, a large, pampered young fellow; "they need cold steel--they ought to be made to work." "How would that suit us?" laughed the other. "We don't have to." "Hello! What's old Bart after?" observed the first one. "Shekels," said the other, and yawned. "After her--he's taking notice." "Oh! no; he's wedded to the tape--goes into the Grand five times a day and reads the tape." "Bet you, he courts her." "How'll you prove it?" "Ask her." "Bet you you daren't ask her." "How much?" "What you like." "I don't want to win your money." "Don't you? Then hand me back that little fifteen hundred you picked up from me last week." "That was square, but this is a certainty." "I'd chance it--bet you a thousand, Jim, you daren't ask her to her face if old Bart isn't courting her and hasn't asked her to marry him." "Oh! that's different. You want to make me put up and then make my bet for me. I tell you what I'll bet--that she's the only girl I know I wouldn't ask that." "That may be. Now, I tell you what I'll bet--that you want a drink--ring the bell." "That's a certainty, too," laughed his friend, and they turned and sank wearily in deep chairs till a drink should give them energy to start a fresh discussion.