“Oh, you made that square as you went along.  Well, now, this is famous.  What a meeting we’ll have!”

“You explain to Mrs. Muir, and I’ll get my hat.”

“I’m in luck,” the doctor began, joining the Muirs on the piazza.

“Of course you are.  You are always in luck,” said Mrs. Muir.

“Oh, no, oh, no.  Draw it milder than that.  I’ve fished many a bad day.  I’m in luck to-night.  What do you think?  You can’t guess.”

“You and Madge had your heads together, and so something will happen.  Are you going to capture a mountain?”

“Yes, a brace of ’em before long.  Well, as good luck would have it, our choir-leader is sick.  I thought it was bad luck at first, and meant to give him an awful dose for being so inopportune.  It has turned out famously.  ‘All-things work together for good,’ you know.  That text required faith once when I had hooked a three-pound trout, and in my eagerness tumbled in where the fish was.  Oh, here you are, Miss Alden.  We’ll go right along, for it’s about time.”

“But you haven’t explained,” cried Mrs. Muir.

“We will when we come back,” said the doctor.

“Oh, I’m merely going over to the chapel to help the doctor out with the singing,” said Madge, carelessly.  “Good-by.”

“Well,” remarked Mr. Muir, sotto voce, “if I were a young fellow, there’s a trail I’d follow, and not that will-o’-the-wisp yonder.”

“What did you say, Henry?” asked his wife.

“It will be hot in town to-morrow, Mary.  It’s growing confoundedly hot in Wall Street.”

“Nothing serious, Henry?”

“It’s always serious there.”

“Oh, well, you’ll come out all right.  It’s a way you have.”

Mr. Muir looked grim and troubled, but the piazza was dusky.  “She can’t help me,” he thought, “and if she was worrying she might hinder me.  Things are no worse, and they may soon be better.  If I had fifty thousand for a month, though, the strain would be over.  She’d be nagging me to take a lot of her money, and I’d see Wall Street sunk first.  Well, well, Wildmere and I may land together in the same ditch.”

For a few moments Graydon and Mr. Arnault sat on either side of the broker’s daughter, each seeking the advantage.  The young lady enjoyed the situation immensely, and for a time had the art to entertain both.  Arnault at last boldly and frankly took the initiative, saying, “Please take a walk with me, Miss Wildmere.  I have come all the way from New York for the pleasure of an evening in your society.  You will excuse us, Mr. Muir.  You have had to-day and will have to-morrow, for I must take an early train.”

Miss Wildmere laughed, and said:  “I must go with you surely, or you will think you have made a bad ‘put’ in railroad tickets, as well as shares, for you are like the rest, I suppose;” and with a smiling glance backward at Graydon she disappeared.

“You are mistaken,” he said; “we foresaw this ‘squeeze’ in the market, and have money to lend if the security is ample.  We were never doing better.”