"No, Miss Blagden. I am new to the city, and I am cut off from expensive amusements by my limited means." "Do you like music?" "Very much. When Patti gives a concert at fifty cents, I may venture to go." At supper Miss Blagden placed something in my hand. I looked at it, and found that it was a ticket to Patti's concert on the following evening. It would give me admission to the most expensive part of the house. "You are very kind, Miss Blagden," I said, in grateful surprise. "Don't mention where you got it. You may consider it in the light of a fee for attendance upon your poor patient. By the way, how is she? Have you been there to-day?" "Yes; she is doing well, but is in a great hurry to get well. The rent comes due next week, and--" "How much is it?" asked Miss Blagden, interrupting me. "Seven dollars." She drew a ten dollar bill from her pocket-book and extended it to me. "Give that to Mrs. Mills," she said. "You make me very happy as well as her; I am beginning to find how kind and charitable you are." "No, no," she said gravely. "There are few of us of whom that may be said. How soon do you think your patient will be able to resume work?" "Next Monday, I hope. She is gaining rapidly." "How thick you are with the Disagreeable Woman!" said Mrs. Wyman, when she next met me. "Don't fail to invite me to the wedding." "On one condition." "What is that?" "That you invite me to your wedding with the Count." She smiled complacently and called me a naughty man. I wonder if she aspires to become a Countess. CHAPTER XV. THE PROFESSOR'S COURTSHIP. "What a guy!" The busy day at Macy's was over. Troops of young women passed through the doors, in street costume, and laughing and chatting, made their way up or down Sixth Avenue, or turned into Twenty-third street. Among them was Ruth Canby, and it was to her that her friend Maria Stevenson addressed the above exclamation. Ruth turned to observe the figure indicated by her friend, and was almost speechless with surprise. At the corner leaning against the lamppost was a figure she knew well. The rusty overcoat with its amplitude of cape, the brown crushed hat, the weather-beaten face, and the green goggles were unmistakable. It was Prof. Poppendorf. He was peering in his short-sighted way at the young women emerging from the great store with an inquiring gaze. Suddenly his eyes brightened. He had found the object of his search. "Mees Ruth!" he exclaimed, stepping forward briskly, "I haf come to walk home with you." Ruth looked confused and almost distressed. She would gladly have found some excuse to avoid the walk but could think of none. "Maria!" she said, hurriedly, "it is an old friend of the family. I shall have to leave you." Her friend looked at the rusty figure in amazement. "Oh, well, Ruth," she said, "we will meet to-morrow. So long!"