“I really don’t.  This is the middle of July.  I don’t know a woman in town.”

He was silent.

“Besides,” she said, “we have no light, no water, nothing to eat in the house, no telephone to order anything——­”

He said:  “I foresaw that you would probably be obliged to remain here, so when I left the telephone office I took the liberty of calling a taxi and visiting the electric light people, the telephone people and the nearest plumber.  It seems he is your own plumber—­Quinn, I believe his name is; and he’s coming in half an hour to turn on the water.”

“Did you think of doing all that?” she asked, astonished.

“Oh, that wasn’t anything.  And I ventured to telephone the Plaza to serve luncheon and dinner here for you——­”

“You did?”

“And I wired to Dooley’s Agency to send you a maid for to-day——­”

“That was perfectly splendid of you!”

“They promised to send one as soon as possible....  And I think that may be the plumber now,” as a tinkle came from the area bell.

It was not the plumber; it was waiters bearing baskets full of silver, china, table linen, ice, fruits, confections, cut flowers, and, in warmers, a most delectable luncheon.

Four impressive individuals commanded by a butler formed the processional, filing solemnly up the basement stairs to the dining room, where they instantly began to lay the table with dexterous celerity.

In the drying room below Betty and Beekman Brown stood confronting each other.

“I suppose,” began Brown with an effort, “that I had better go now.”

Betty said thoughtfully:  “I suppose you must.”

“Unless,” continued Brown, “you think I had better remain—­somewhere on the premises—­until your maid arrives.”

“That might be safer,” said Betty, more thoughtfully.

“Your maid will probably be here in a few minutes.”

“Probably,” said Betty, head bent, slim, ringless fingers busy with the sparkling drop that glimmered pendant from her neckchain.

Silence—­the ironing board between them—­she standing, bright head lowered, worrying the jewel with childish fingers; he following every movement, fascinated, spellbound.

After a moment, without looking up:  “You have been very, very nice to me—­ in the nicest possible way,” she said....  “I am not going to forget it easily—­even if I might wish to.”

“I can never forget you!...  I d-don’t want to.”

The sparkling pendant escaped her fingers; she picked it up again and spoke as though gravely addressing it: 

“Some day somewhere,” she said, looking at the jewel, “perhaps chance—­ the hazard of life—­may bring us to—­togeth—­to acquaintance—­a more formal acquaintance than this....  I hope so.  This has been a little—­ irregular, and perhaps you had better not wait for my maid....  I hope we may meet—­sometime.”