"Sometimes," continued the girl, acknowledging his confession of error by a slight bow, "I have thought that if I ever should love a man it would be one of lowly station. One who is a worker and not a drone. But, doubtless, the claims of caste and wealth will prove stronger than my inclination. Just now I am besieged by two. One is a Grand Duke of a German principality. I think he has, or has had, a wife, somewhere, driven mad by his intemperance and cruelty. The other is an English Marquis, so cold and mercenary that I even prefer the diabolism of the Duke. What is it that impels me to tell you these things, Mr. Packenstacker? "Parkenstacker," breathed the young man. "Indeed, you cannot know how much I appreciate your confidences." The girl contemplated him with the calm, impersonal regard that befitted the difference in their stations. "What is your line of business, Mr. Parkenstacker?" she asked. "A very humble one. But I hope to rise in the world. Were you really in earnest when you said that you could love a man of lowly position?" "Indeed I was. But I said 'might.' There is the Grand Duke and the Marquis, you know. Yes; no calling could be too humble were the man what I would wish him to be." "I work," declared Mr. Parkenstacker, "in a restaurant." The girl shrank slightly. "Not as a waiter?" she said, a little imploringly. "Labor is noble, but personal attendance, you know--valets and--" "I am not a waiter. I am cashier in"--on the street they faced that bounded the opposite side of the park was the brilliant electric sign "RESTAURANT"--"I am cashier in that restaurant you see there." The girl consulted a tiny watch set in a bracelet of rich design upon her left wrist, and rose, hurriedly. She thrust her book into a glittering reticule suspended from her waist, for which, however, the book was too large. "Why are you not at work?" she asked. "I am on the night turn," said the young man; "it is yet an hour before my period begins. May I not hope to see you again?" "I do not know. Perhaps--but the whim may not seize me again. I must go quickly now. There is a dinner, and a box at the play--and, oh! the same old round. Perhaps you noticed an automobile at the upper corner of the park as you came. One with a white body." "And red running gear?" asked the young man, knitting his brows reflectively. "Yes. I always come in that. Pierre waits for me there. He supposes me to be shopping in the department store across the square. Conceive of the bondage of the life wherein we must deceive even our chauffeurs. Good-night." "But it is dark now," said Mr. Parkenstacker, "and the park is full of rude men. May I not walk--" "If you have the slightest regard for my wishes," said the girl, firmly, "you will remain at this bench for ten minutes after I have left. I do not mean to accuse you, but you are probably aware that autos generally bear the monogram of their owner. Again, good-night."