That evening Tom came into Nan’s house as was his custom. Though Cis had bade him cease to hope for her love, and Nan had confirmed the hopelessness, yet as long as Cis was free, it was hard for Tom to give her up, and wholly impossible to stay away from her. “Well,” the boy began as he came in, “I saw something pretty decent to-night. A man came in on the 7:56 train; I was at the station. He was great, the kind everybody turns to look at; tall, well-dressed, about forty, maybe, and--I don’t know! Great; that’s about the word. You wanted to speak to him, and shake hands with him. He talked something like an Englishman, not quite--” “What did he look like?” cried Cis. “Why, I’ve been telling you, haven’t I?” Tom spoke in an aggrieved tone. “I don’t know the color of his eyes, or anything of that sort. Handsome, I’d say, but more sort of splendid. He had another man with him, nice chap, too. Well, sir, there was a raggedy old woman hanging around, trying to find out something about trains, or farming, for all I know; nobody could make her out. She had a bag as big as a Noë’s ark, and a regular eruption of bundles! A fresh boy thought it was funny to hustle her, hit up against her, and she dropped the bundles, bag, whole shooting match, all over everything! The bag bulged queer clothes--it burst open--and the bundles opened up, or two did, and out of one there sort of flowed a lot of carrots, and out of the other a white kitten got away! Don’t ask me how she had it done up, for I’ll never tell you! Everybody howled laughing, but what do you think that man did?” “Helped her!” cried Cis, and she looked triumphant and excited. “Rather! Caught the kitten and stroked it quiet; the little thing took to him as if he’d been the mother cat! Gathered up carrots with the other hand, and, in the mean time, talked to the old dame in her own tongue--Italian--and put her wise to whatever she was trying to find out! I got in on bundling the clothes back into the bag, and the carrots into the bundle, and the kitten into a basket, which my knight of distressed dames bought at the fruit stand; he tied it down so strong that the kitten is sure to arrive wherever it’s going! And I’m betting that most of the people around there felt good and ashamed of themselves! It isn’t much to tell, but somehow it was a lot to see. There wasn’t a person in that waiting room that didn’t think that man was the greatest ever; you could feel the way the thing grabbed ’em. I tell you the truth! Of course I was sorry for the old person, and sorry I’d laughed at her, and I did want to make good by helping her out, but I wanted more to be working with that man so that he’d speak to me! He did speak, too! And I leave it to you if a fellow like me often feels that way to a man, a perfect stranger, just happening to come off the train in the station?” “Magnetism,” murmured Joe. “There’s only one man in all the world like that!” cried Cis. Tom turned on her sharply.