Hal gave these men his real name and address, and made them promise to let him know how they got along. He would help a little, he said; in his mind he was figuring how much he ought to do. How far shall a man go in relieving the starvation about him, before he can enjoy his meals in a well-appointed club? What casuist will work out this problem--telling him the percentage he shall relieve of the starvation he happens personally to know about, the percentage of that which he sees on the streets, the percentage of that about which he reads in government reports on the rise in the cost of living. To what extent is he permitted to close his eyes, as he walks along the streets on his way to the club? To what extent is he permitted to avoid reading government reports before going out to dinner-dances with his fiancée? Problems such as these the masters of the higher mathematics have neglected to solve; the wise men of the academies and the holy men of the churches have likewise failed to work out the formulas; and Hal, trying to obtain them by his crude mental arithmetic, found no satisfaction in the results. SECTION 28. Hal wanted a chance to talk to Mary Burke; they had had no intimate talk since the meeting with Jessie Arthur, and now he was going away, for a long time. He wanted to find out what plans Mary had for the future, and--more important yet--what was her state of mind. If he had been able to lift this girl from despair, his summer course in practical sociology had not been all a failure! He asked her to go with him to say good-bye to John Edstrom, whom he had not seen since their unceremonious parting at MacKellar’s, when Hal had fled to Percy Harrigan’s train. Downstairs in the lobby Hal explained his errand to his waiting brother, who made no comment, but merely remarked that he would follow, if Hal had no objection. He did not care to make the acquaintance of the Hibernian Joan of Arc, and would not come close enough to interfere with Hal’s conversation with the lady; but he wished to do what he could for his brother’s protection. So there set out a moon-light procession--first Hal and Mary, then Edward, and then Edward’s dinner-table companion, the “hardware-drummer!” Hal was embarrassed in beginning his farewell talk with Mary. He had no idea how she felt towards him, and he admitted with a guilty pang that he was a little afraid to find out! He thought it best to be cheerful, so he started to tell her how fine he thought her conduct during the strike. But she did not respond to his remarks, and at last he realised that she was labouring with some thoughts of her own. “There’s somethin’ I got to say to ye!” she began, suddenly. “A couple of days ago I knew how I meant to say it, but now I don’t.” “Well,” he laughed, “say it as you meant to.” “No; ’twas bitter--and now I’m on my knees before ye.”