THE man and the woman in the alcove on the right had been talking a long while. Three times the waiter had looked in and withdrawn. If he had stopped long enough he would have seen that it seemed to be the woman who was talking. The man sat silent, one hand shading his eyes and the eyes looking out at her as she talked. The waiter knew the woman. He had served her--many times. He remembered very well the first day she came to Merwin’s--a year ago--more than a year, perhaps. She was alone, and she had stood just inside the swinging door--looking about her as if she were not used to places like Merwin’s--or as if she were afraid. Something had made him think that she was looking for some one--and he had shown her into the third alcove on the right. But no one had come that day. She had come again many times since, and always alone, and there was always a coin on the table in the third alcove waiting for him. The waiter was a little disappointed to-day.... He knew the man--Eldridge Walcott--a lawyer--a good enough sort; but the waiter somehow felt that they had not met until today. He had served them both alone--but not together--until to-day.... He pushed aside the curtain and looked in. She was still talking.... The man made a little gesture of refusal, and he withdrew.... “It was when Tom sent me the five hundred--” the waiter heard her say as the curtain fell in place. The man in the alcove behind the curtain was looking at her--“When did Tom send you--five hundred?” “A year ago--a little more than a year, I think--” She paused to think it out. “He had not sent us anything, you know--not since little Tom was born--?” She was looking at him, straight---- His own look did not flinch. “I know--I put it into the business--called it investing it--for Tommie--at six per cent.” She nodded. “Tom never liked it. I suppose mother told him--that we had not used it to buy things with--the way he meant us to.” “For things you needed,” said the man. “I know--I knew then--but I took it.” He did not excuse himself--and his eyes did not look away from her. “I was blind,” he said softly. “That was what Tom wrote--when he sent the five hundred. He said that I must spend it on myself--or return it to him.... And that I was to tell him just what I bought with it--every penny of it--” She waited a minute. “Did he say anything else?” asked the man. “Better tell me everything, wouldn’t you--Rosalind?” “He said that he was not setting Eldridge Walcott up in business,” she added after a little minute--and she smiled at him tenderly. Eldridge returned the look--“We don’t mind--now.” “No.”... They were silent a few minutes. “I thought--at first--I _would_ send it back. I wrote to Tom how many things we needed--for the house--and the children--and for everything--” “What did he say?” “He asked me if you would _let_ me spend it for the house and for the children and for everything--if you knew about it?”