Tom sat beside her, and began whispering in his free western voice, when a young man seated directly in front, turned deliberately around and stared at him. Polly gasped, and Eleanor nudged her in the side. It was Jack Baxter! Without taking his eyes from Tom, Jack reached under the chair and got his hat. Then he dragged his coat over his arm, and got up. He bowed stiffly to the girls in Tom's party, and went out. Tom waited until he was gone, then he looked down at Polly. "Um! It was high time I came East, I see!" "Why?" was Polly's smiling rejoinder. "By next Spring it might have been Tom who sat alone and felt like the fifth wheel in a wagon instead of Baxter. My, but I'm glad I came!" Polly frowned, and Eleanor did her best to hear what was said between these two _apparently_ phlegmatic companions. But Tom meant his words for Polly's ears only. Once during the evening, when the light was so low that the theatre was almost dark, Tom changed his position in such a way that his arm rested over the back of Polly's chair. In his interest in the scene on the stage, his hand dropped carelessly upon her shoulder. And Polly was too engaged with the play to remove it, or even change her position to allow it to fall back again. Then Tom moved, so that his arms touched hers, and his hand that rested upon one knee, could cover Polly's hand while the audience was enthralled by the burglar's escape, and no one but Eleanor had the slightest idea of what was going on in these two orchestra chairs. But Polly grew restive and tried to free her hand. Then the lights went up again, and Tom moved away and said apologetically: "These seats are so cramped for such a great fellow as I am!" And Polly replied tartly: "Yes, they really ought to allow more room for people's hands and arms." Eleanor smiled wisely, and sent Tom a teasing look. John Baxter did not come back to claim his seat that evening, and the play ended without Polly having given him another thought. Poor Jack! After Tom reached New York, there seemed very little time for Polly in which to hunt up antiques in the country, or to attend sales that were advertised at various places. Then Winter weather set in, and that gave her the necessary excuse that the automobile could not travel in snow or mud. All but Tom and Polly thought that Tom's plot to win Polly from her chosen profession seemed to be succeeding. But Tom felt that he had not had much encouragement as yet; and Polly was having a very nice time with an old friend she liked better than other young men, without feeling unduly indebted for the pleasure. Although the Latimers lived uptown in New York, they saw little of Tom during the first weeks of his return to the City. He stopped at a hotel not far from the Fabian's place, and made duty-calls on his father and mother at regular intervals, but they understood what he came East for, and they wished him all success.