“All right, I’ll throw her in,” cried the desperate auctioneer.  “What am I bid for this here afternoon costume complete with lady.”

“Twenty-seven fifty,” said a woman whom three years of banting would still have left too fat to get into it.

“Twenty-eight,” whispered the first bidder.

“Thirty,” said John Sedyard.

There was some other desultory bidding but in a few moments Sedyard found himself minus fifty-four dollars and plus a chiffon gown and muff, a hat all drooping plumes and a graceful female form, golden-haired, bewitching, with a smile sweetly blended of surprise, incipient idiocy and allure.

“She’s a queen all right, all right,” the sophisticated youth cheered him.  “Git onto them lovely wax-like hands.  Say, you know honest, on the level, she’s worth the whole price of admission.”

John, still chaperoned by this sagacious and helpful youth, made his way to the clerk’s desk and proceeded to give his name and address and request that his purchases should be delivered in the morning.

“Deliver nothin’,” said the clerk pleasantly.  “Do you suppose we’d ’a let you have the goods at that price if we could ’a stored ’em overnight?  Our lease is up,” he continued consulting his Ingersoll watch, “in just fifteen minutes.  In a quarter of an hour we hand over the keys and what’s left of the fixtures to the landlord.  He’s let the store for to-morrow to a Christmas-tree ornaments merchant.”

“Then I suppose I’ll have to get an expressman.  Where is the nearest, do you know?”

“Expressman!” exclaimed the sharp youth.  “Well, I guess the nearest would be about Three Hundred and Fifty-second Street and then he’d have a load and a jag.  No, sir, it’s the faithful cab for yours.  There’s a row of cabs just on the edge of the square.  I could go over and get you a hansom.”

“Thank you,” said John, “I wish you would.”  But a glance at his languishing companion made him add, “I guess you had better make it a four-wheeler.  Hansom-riding would be pretty cold for a lady without a coat.”

“All right,” said the sharp youth.  “You bring her out on the sidewalk and I’ll get the hurry-up wagon.  Say!” he halted to suggest, “you know what you’ll look like, don’t you?—­riding around with that smile.  When the lights flush you, you’ll look just like a bridal party from Hoboken.”

Leaving this word of comfort behind him, he proceeded to imperil his life among trolley cars and traffic, while John engaged the lady and urged her to motion.

He discovered that, supported at the waistline, she could be wheeled very nicely.  He forced the muff over her upraised right hand, so that it somewhat concealed her face, and through an aisle respectfully cleared by the onlookers he led her to the open air.  There he propped her against the show-window and turned in search of the cab and his new friend.  In doing so he came face to face with an old one.