He even read Clarence, whom he had long since given up as hopeless, a moving lecture on the sin of idleness, and that astonished youth, who had fancied himself proof against criticism, actually searched for things to do, so impressed and startled was he by the manager's earnestness, and so fearful was he lest he should lose his place. If that happened, he knew his father would send him to school, and he almost preferred work, so he flew around, was under everybody's feet and in everybody's way, and when Oakley left the office at half-past two, Holt forcibly ejected him, after telling him he was a first-class nuisance, and that if he Stuck his nose inside the door again he'd skin him. Feeling deeply his unpopularity, Clarence withdrew to the yards, where he sought out Dutch Pete With tears in his eyes he begged the yard boss to find some task for him, it made no difference what, just so it was work; but Dutch Pete didn't want to be bothered, and sent him away with what Clarence felt to be a superfluity of bad words. Naturally the office force gave a deep sigh of satisfaction when Oakley closed his desk and announced that he was going up-town and would not return. Miss Walton confided to Kerr that she just hoped he would never come back. It was a little before three o'clock when Dan presented himself at the Emorys'. The maid who answered his ring ushered him into the parlor with marked trepidation. She was a timid soul. Then she swished from the room, but returned almost immediately to say that Miss Emory would be down in a moment. “I wonder what's troubling her,” muttered Oakley, with some exasperation. “You'd think she expected me to take her head off.” He guessed that, like her betters, she was enjoying to the limit the sensation of which he was the innocent victim. When Constance entered the room, he advanced a little uncertainly. She extended her hand quite cordially, however. There was no trace of embarrassment or constraint in her manner. As he took her hand, Dan said, simply, going straight to the purpose of his call: “I have thought a good deal over what I want to tell you, Miss Emory.” Miss Emory instantly took the alarm, and was on the defensive. She enveloped herself in that species of inscrutable feminine reserve men find so difficult to penetrate. She could not imagine what he had to tell her that was so pressing. He was certainly very curious and unconventional. There was one thing she feared he might want to tell her which she was firmly determined not to hear. Oakley drew forward a chair. “Won't you sit down?” he asked, gravely. “Thank you, yes.” It was all so formal they both smiled. Dan stood with his back to the fire-place, now filled with ferns, and rested an elbow on the mantel. There was an awkward pause. At last he said, slowly: