“Well, yes,” he said, rather piqued that she had not let him finish. She stood above him now, looking down. “Good-night, Benway. I suppose you will come to the offices on Monday?” “Yes, I’ll see you then, Ethel, every day,” he said wistfully. “Good-night,” she repeated and went quickly within. Once inside the screen door she watched his shadowy figure down the path. “‘No influence’?” she murmured. “He does not suspect how I fairly had to beg Mr. Barton to give him a chance! Poor Benway! Poor, poor boy!” The girl went on to her bedroom. She stood a moment in the darkness. “Frank Barton going--leaving--” she gasped. “Oh, why can’t he see? Why can’t he see?” she added, moaning. Then she began her preparations for bed. Benway Chase crossed the road and entered the field that divided his own home from the end of Burnaby Street. This was a surburban locality. There was the fine smell of new-mown hay in his nostrils. Half way across the field he stumbled upon a cock of hay that had been thrown up for the night, and he fell upon it, rolling upon his back luxuriously and gazing back. There was a light in a certain window of the Clayton Cottage. He had watched it many a night, for he knew that it was the window of Ethel’s room. Above the rooftree hung a brilliant star. He had watched that, too, often and again. And when the light in Ethel’s room was snuffed out he fixed his eyes on the star and dreamed. It was only a boy’s dream at best. It was a foolish dream, perhaps. But Benway Chase often dreamed it. He was fully a year older than Ethel Clayton; but sometimes she made him feel very much younger than she. Dreamer by nature, he; and she one of those practical souls that chafe in the bodies of women. At least, they chafe where women’s growth is hampered. But Ethel was numbered of the emancipated. She was a business woman. Moreover, she was a successful business woman. As she had said, no girl in Mailsburg in all probability earned a larger wage than she did. She had a grasp upon the details of the business of the Hapwood-Diller Company that fitted her without question for a position as important as that of Jim Mayberry for instance. Indeed, she was better informed and more capable than even Frank Barton realized. The manager merely found her surprisingly helpful on occasion. He respected her; he admired her good business sense displayed at these times. Ethel Clayton did not wish to be admired by the manager for any such reason. Perhaps hers, too, was a dream of a star. CHAPTER VI TWO GOOD-BYES After the porter, who dusted and removed the waste paper, Mabel Skinner was the first of the office force to arrive at the Hapwood-Diller Company the next morning.