Yet he was young, and it was not strange that in his idle moments his thoughts sometimes reverted to the pretty girl he had seen on the night of his arrival, nor that he should wish to parade his better fortune before her curious eyes.  Neither was it strange that in this city, whose day-long sunshine brought every one into the public streets, he should presently have that opportunity.  It chanced that one afternoon, being in the residential quarter, he noticed a well-dressed young girl walking before him in company with a delicate looking boy of seven or eight years.  Something in the carriage of her graceful figure, something in a certain consciousness and ostentation of coquetry toward her youthful escort, attracted his attention.  Yet it struck him that she was neither related to the child nor accustomed to children’s ways, and that she somewhat unduly emphasized this to the passers-by, particularly those of his own sex, who seemed to be greatly attracted by her evident beauty.  Presently she ascended the steps of a handsome dwelling, evidently their home, and as she turned he saw her face.  It was the girl he remembered.  As her eye caught his, he blushed with the consciousness of their former meeting; yet, in the very embarrassment of the moment, he lifted his hat in recognition.  But the salutation was met only by a cold, critical stare.  Randolph bit his lip and passed on.  His reason told him she was right, his instinct told him she was unfair; the contradiction fascinated him.

Yet he was destined to see her again.  A month later, while seated at his desk, which overlooked the teller’s counter, he was startled to see her enter the bank and approach the counter.  She was already withdrawing a glove from her little hand, ready to affix her signature to the receipted form to be proffered by the teller.  As she received the gold in exchange, he could see, by the increased politeness of that official, his evident desire to prolong the transaction, and the sidelong glances of his fellow clerks, that she was apparently no stranger but a recognized object of admiration.  Although her face was slightly flushed at the moment, Randolph observed that she wore a certain proud reserve, which he half hoped was intended as a check to these attentions.  Her eyes were fixed upon the counter, and this gave him a brief opportunity to study her delicate beauty.  For in a few moments she was gone; whether she had in her turn observed him he could not say.  Presently he rose and sauntered, with what he believed was a careless air, toward the paying teller’s counter and the receipt, which, being the last, was plainly exposed on the file of that day’s “taking.”  He was startled by a titter of laughter from the clerks and by the teller ironically lifting the file and placing it before him.

“That’s her name, sonny, but I didn’t think that you’d tumble to it quite as quick as the others.  Every new man manages to saunter round here to get a sight of that receipt, and I’ve seen hoary old depositors outside edge around inside, pretendin’ they wanted to see the dep, jest to feast their eyes on that girl’s name.  Take a good look at it and paste a copy in your hat, for that’s all you’ll know of her, you bet.  Perhaps you think she’s put her address and her ‘at home’ days on the receipt.  Look hard and maybe you’ll see ’em.”