"No," replied the other, "I couldn't get off; but Sarah went. Nothing could keep her back. She'd have gone if it had been midwinter and she'd had to walk every step of the way knee-deep in snow. She was on the supper committee, you know. Sometimes I wonder how we could ever get along without the Rebekahs."

"I don't waste my time that way," laughed the agent. "But don't you run away with the idea that I don't appreciate all that the Rebekah Order means to Odd Fellowship. To my mind it's the leaven of the whole lump. The new Grand Master has made a fine impression, especially on the sisters, and they are determined, so they say, to make this year a record breaker."

"He's a married man, ain't he?" inquired his friend.

The agent tipped his hat to one side and chuckled.

"Married? Well, I guess not. Why, you know who he is? Richard Denman, lives down Norwood way in that big place on the river road, Ledgelawn' they call it."

"Can't say I do remember; you forget I've been away, off and on, for the best part of five years, and not until Sarah got the Rebekah 'bee in her bonnet' did I ever give much thought to lodge except to keep my dues paid up. Seems to me I've heard he was a lawyer."

"That's the man. His father was Judge Den

man, and I tell you he was a corker if there ever was one! Great tall man with an eye that looked straight through you. My father used to say that the old Judge was a lawyer that could tell a lie but was so darned obstinate he wouldn't. Think of that!" And they laughed noisily.

"Yes, 'Dick,' as the boys call him, took the practice when the old man died eight years ago. He was a young fellow just out of law school, full of the devil but straight as a string. He settled right down and is making a name for himself, so I hear."

"How old is he?"

The agent frowned deeply, and ruminated. "Let me see," he murmured. "The Judge went to Californy when I was a baby, so I've heard father tell, and a few years after," he paused, then the thought coming clearer, said with emphasis, "Now, I have it. Kate was born when I was five, and that was the very year Judge Denman brought his wife home. She was a 'Frisco girl, and he married her out there. Handsome woman, is so now. The Grand Master comes rightly by his good looks. Now, I'm five years older than Kate, and I've heard her say that she was five years older than Dick Denman. Oh, he's about thirty-two or three."

His companion got up and looked at the clock from the ticket window and remained leaning on its wide ledge.

"Has he been up yet?"

"Why, what are you thinking of, man? He, leave before six and miss the fine supper the Bekies had prepared? Not he! He'll be along in time for the 9.15 all right. His mother has only the colored help in the house, and like a good son he always tries to get back home at night whenever he can make it. I tell you, he's all right. Want to meet him, George?"

The other turned as if to go, saying, "Not tonight. I've got to get up early to-morrow. Going up Aroostook way." Then, lowering his voice, Somebody wants a ticket, I guess."

In her eagerness to hear all that was being said, Bettina Lawton had moved into the light and the man saw her profile clearly outlined by the window. The agent sprang quickly to his feet, opened the window and looked out. Mrs. Lawton advanced.

"Boston, please," she said. On coming to the station it had been her intention to buy a through ticket to her destination, New York, but the conversation she had just listened to had started a train of thought, visionary, yet probable, and it might be well for her to dissemble. Boston was the end of the Pullman run, and her section had been engaged by mail two days ago, so, quite naturally, Boston suggested itself as the better place for the train ticket.

The ticket duly stamped and change given, the agent turned his attention to his departing guest.

Returning to her charge, Mrs. Lawton quickly removed the child to the farthest and darkest part of the dimly lighted station. The screen behind the big stove quite hid them from view. She watched the men as they emerged from the ticket office and left the waiting room. It was then five minutes to nine o'clock. The Boston express was due at 9.06 and the agent had said that the Grand Master would leave on the up train at 9.15. If she carried out the mad plan that had suggested itself to her mind, there was no time to be lost. "An Odd Fellow," she kept saying to herself. There lay her right of appeal, but how in the world was she ever going to do it? Her thoughts were in a tumult. She could not ask him to take the child; that would be an insane idea; he had never even heard of her. He would refuse undoubtedly, and no wonder. She could not expect anyone unless made acquainted with all the circumstances to give the thing any consideration. Oh, for a home, a home! Never before had it meant so much to her anxious thought. It had always been the one great desire of her heart for the baby's sake.

"Only the mother and son, servants, and a big house. What a home for some little child," she said, half aloud. If Miriam could only be placed amid such surroundings as those in which the agent said the Grand Master lived! Miriam was a good child, healthy, sweet tempered, and very

bright. Nurse Graham had brought her up so carefully, surely they could not help but love her, and it might not be for long. Another season she would drop musical comedy and get into some resident stock company, then she could make a home for the little one. The more she thought of it the stronger became her conviction that she was right in indulging in such fancies. Taking the child to New York, even if she hired an apartment and a competent nurse, what should she do when the company went on the road, as very likely it might in the spring? She closed her eyes and tried to steady her thought. She dared not look at the little one, she must be unselfish and do whatever seemed best for her darling. If it were right that she should do the thing she contemplated the way would be made clear to her. It always had been in the past, it would be so now. The Red Sea of Doubt would surely open and a path be shown her through which to take her child to safety. There was no need to worry, there was no cause for fear, she must be obedient to Divine Love and the mists of doubt would lift.

A gust of wind struck her fevered cheek. She opened her eyes and peered around the side of the screen. Two men were entering the waiting room. The first was a tall young man with a military bearing. He carried a fur-lined coat on his arm and a suit case in his hand. The other man was stouter, and wore eyeglasses. Both were talk