This was a most unusual state of affairs, for it was an inexorable decree of Dr. Prue’s that the telephone must never be left alone.  Somebody must have gone to sleep.  The cold and the darkness deepened and it became more and more evident that she was locked out.  What should she do?  After canvassing the situation thoroughly, she could think of nothing for it but to seek refuge with the Miser.  Her acquaintance in the neighbourhood was limited.  Miss Kitty the dressmaker had gone to vespers, and her cottage was dark.  The apartment house was too far away.  From the Miser’s library she could watch for the light which would betoken the waking up of the delinquent one.  So across the street, her nose in her muff, ran Margaret Elizabeth.

The little housekeeper, Mrs. Sampson, who opened the door, was all solicitude.  Such a cold evening to be locked out!  She knew Mr. Knight would be glad to have her wait in the library.  He had stepped out for a little walk, though she had warned him it was too cold.  Thus saying, Mrs. Sampson ushered her in, and followed to see if the fire was all it should be.

It was, for the Candy Man had just given it a vigorous poking and put on fresh coal.  The room was full of its pleasant light.

Mrs. Sampson was surprised to find him there.  “Miss Bentley, this is Mr. Reynolds, a friend of Mr. Knight’s,” she explained, adding that Miss Bentley was locked out, and wished to sit by the window and watch for her uncle to come back.  “And if you’ll excuse me, Miss Bentley, the cook has her Sunday evenings out, and I get supper myself,” she added as she withdrew.

Margaret Elizabeth and the Candy Man faced each other in silence for a second or two, then she said, very gravely indeed, “I am glad to meet you, Mr. Reynolds.”

“Thank you, Miss Bentley.  May I give you a chair?” he asked.

“Thank you, I will sit here by the window.”  The window was some distance from the fire, but as she sat down Margaret Elizabeth loosened her furs as if she felt its heat.

The Candy Man waited, uncertain what course he should pursue.

“Please sit down, Mr. Reynolds.  I should like to talk to you, now the opportunity has so unexpectedly offered.”  She regarded him still seriously, her hands clasped within her large muff.  “I think you owe me an explanation.”

“I am not sure I understand.”  The Candy Man’s heart was beating in an absurd and disconcerting way, but he would keep his head and follow her lead.

“Of course you are aware that you allowed me to talk to you that morning in the park, in a—­most unsuitable manner, without even——­”

“How could I?” cried the Candy Man entreatingly.  “I did not know.”

“Did not know what?” demanded Miss Bentley sternly, as he hesitated.

“I thought perhaps—­I was dreadfully lonely, you see, and I thought—­it was preposterous—­but I hoped you—­don’t you see?—­didn’t mind talking to an unknown Candy Man.”