“I saw you coming,” she explained, and there was something so impossibly innocent in her smile that Jack wondered if she had not also seen him trying to make up his mind whether he would come or not. “Come into the library,” she went on. “I’m all alone just now. The others will be back soon, though, I think.” The library was cool and dim, a grateful relief after the burning glare of the street, and Dick dropped lazily on the big sofa where they had sat last Wednesday evening; there was also the same expectation of an interruption from John Bagsbury. Altogether no circumstances could have been more favorable to the immediate carrying out of Jack’s intention than these. “I’ve come round, Dick, to say what I tried to say the other night. I fancy you have already answered me; but I want to tell you all there is to tell, and I want to be sure that we both understand. I think we owe each other that.” Jack had composed that introduction on the way over, and had decided that it would do. It was clear and dignified, and there was an undercurrent of pathos which modified its admirable reserve. But now that the time had come, he did not say it. Sitting close beside Dick on the sofa, he wondered how he could have thought seriously of speaking such idiocy as that. What he really said was:-- “How do you keep this room so cool? It’s been witheringly hot outside for the last three days.” Then he asked himself why he would be such an ass; Dick could see right through him, he knew, and she was laughing at him. He looked at her. Except for the tell-tale corner of her mouth, her face was intensely solemn; but that lurking dimple completely disconcerted Jack. He might be a great fool, but she ought not to make fun of him like this. “How has it been going down at the bank?” she asked. “Badly. They’ve been losing money.” This was going from bad to worse. Nothing was further from his intention than to say something facetious, but he went on: “They think that I’m worth fifteen dollars a week, and as I figure it, they’ve lost about six dollars and a quarter since Thursday morning by that arrangement.” “I’m glad you came,” said Dick. “I wanted to talk with you about the bank. Poor John’s having a hard time. Mr. Cartwright and Mr. Meredith have just bought a lot of stock, and they were scared by the story in the paper this morning. John’s afraid they’ll make a great disturbance, and try to sell their stock. That would give people a rather unfavorable impression of the condition the bank was in, you see.”