Inexplicable! Nobody had ever seen Ryder in such a state of mind before. He was one minute as snappy as a mud turtle; the next he ran his hand through the curly red mop of hair on the errand boy's head, gave him a dollar, and told him to take in the next ball game at the Polo Grounds without troubling himself to tell Brumby that his grandmother had died. But to capsheaf his entire performance on this occasion, Ryder sat down again to dictate a few notes on personal matters and began the first one by saying: "Ahem! Are you ready, Miss Nelson? Here goes: 'My dear Rose'--Good Lord! that isn't it. Er--er--Write Hallett and Mayes about the renewal of the lease of my apartment. Tell them--er---- Well, write it yourself, Miss Nelson," he concluded in much confusion and beginning to perspire. "I shall not renew it. It runs out the first of November and I shall make--er--ahem!--a change." She stared at him in amazement. John Ryder had occupied the same chambers on the north side of Gramercy Park for ten years and was considered as permanent a fixture in that neighborhood as the fenced and locked garden in the middle of the square. "Well, hang it!" he demanded, catching her wondering eye and losing patience again. "Can't I make a change? I hope I'm not _married_ to those rooms?" And then he reddened furiously. Miss Nelson gazed upon him with dawning understanding. She was not a young woman whose thoughts lingered much upon the tender passion; but she was by no means a fool. She knew now that her employer was not intoxicated. Brumby might think Mr. Ryder suddenly bereft of his senses; the bookkeeper could say that "the old man" was about to "bust"; and the red-headed office boy could declare that the boss had felt the change before death when he gave up the dollar, but Miss Nelson knew now what the matter was. _Mr. Ryder was in love!_ When she went out for her lunch she--the frigid Miss Nelson--sentimentally bought a flower from a street vender and brought it back to the office. But by that time John Ryder had cleared up all the matters he considered really vital, had given Brumby a nervous shock by telling him to expect no word from him, Ryder, for at least a fortnight, and had left the offices. All these petty details of business were the "needles and pins" of life. For the first time in his business career Ryder found that he hated business. He fairly walked on air as he hurried to the subway, crowded himself into an already crowded train, and was transported uptown. A few steps to the hotel--then the elevator--then the carpeted corridor to the door of the parlor where he had left his bride. A knock, a swift patter of feet in answer, the turning of the key, and---- She was there--a vision of delight to him! Her coat and hat were already on. His heart glowed. She had been as eager for his return as he had been to get back to her. "Are--are you ready?" was all he could say. "Yes," she murmured, quite as embarrassed.