Wanted—A Match Maker

carriageremain here?" he asked, when the porter had opened it.

  "It stayed till the policeman came down, doctor. He ordered it to go tothe police-station, and got in it."

  "I forgot that my coachman must answer for the accident. Is there acab-stand near here?"

  Dr. Armstrong looked into her eyes, with an amusement which yet did notentirely obliterate the look of admiration, of which the girl was becomingmore and more conscious. "The denizens of Avenue A have severalcab-stands, of course," he replied, "but they prefer to keep them overon Fifth Avenue."

  "It was a foolish question, I suppose" coldly retorted Constance, quite asmoved thereto by the scrutiny as by the words, "but I did not even noticewhere the carriage was driving when we came here. Can you tell me thenearest car line which will take me to Washington Square?"

  "As it is five blocks away, and the neighbourhood is not of the nicest, Ishall take the liberty of walking with you to it."

  "Really, I would rather not. I haven't the slightest fear," protested thegirl, eager to escape both the observation and the obligation.

  "But I have," calmly said her companion, as if his wish were the onlything to be considered.

  For a moment Miss Durant vacillated, then, with a very slight inclinationof her head, conveying the smallest quantity of consent and acknowledgmentshe could express, she walked out of the porte-cochere.

  The doctor put himself beside her, and; they turned down the street, butnot one word did she say. "If he will force his society upon me, I will atleast show him my dislike of it," was her thought.

  Obviously Dr. Armstrong was not disturbed by Miss Durant's programme, forthe whole distance was walked in silence; and even when they halted on thecorner, he said nothing, though the girl was conscious that his eyes stillstudied her face.

  "I will not be the first to speak," she vowed to herself; but minute afterminute passed without the slightest attempt or apparent wish on his part,and finally she asked, "Are you sure this line is running?"

  Her attendant pointed up the street. "That yellow light is your car. Idon't know why the intervals are so long this evening. Usually--"

  He was interrupted by the girl suddenly clutching at her dress, and thengiving an exclamation of real consternation.

  "What is it?" he questioned.

  "Why, I--nothing--that is, I think--I prefer to walk home, after all," shestammered.

  "You mustn't do that. It's over two miles, and through a really roughdistrict."

  "I choose to, none the less," answered Constance, starting across thestreet.

  "Then you will have to submit to my safeguard for some time longer, MissDurant," asserted the doctor, as he overtook her.

  Constance stopped. "Dr. Armstrong," she said, "I trust you will not insiston accompanying me farther, when I tell you I haven't the slightest fearof anything."

  "You have no fear, Miss Durant," he answered, "because you are too youngand inexperienced to even know the possibilities. This is no part of thecity for you to walk alone in after dark. Your wisest course is to take acar, but if you prefer not, you had best let me go with you."

  "I choose not to take a car," replied the girl, warmly, "and you have noright to accompany me against my wish."

  Dr. Armstrong raised his hat. "I beg your pardon. I did not realize thatmy presence was not desired," he said.

  Angry at both herself and him, Constance merely bowed, and walked on. "Idon't see why men have to torment me so," she thought, as she hurriedalong. "His face was really interesting, and if he only wouldn't beginlike--He never would have behaved so if--if I weren't--" Miss Durantchecked even her thoughts from the word "beautiful," and allowed the words"well dressed" to explain her magnetism to the other sex. Then, as if tosalve her conscience of her own hypocrisy, she added, "It really is anadvantage to a girl, if she doesn't want to be bothered by men, to be bornplain."

  The truth of her thought was brought home to her with unexpectedsuddenness, for as she passed a strip of sidewalk made light by the glarefrom a saloon brilliant with gas, a man just coming out of its door staredboldly, and then joined her.

  "Ahem!" he said.

  The girl quickened her pace, but the intruder only lengthened his.

  "Cold night, isn't it, darling?" he remarked, and tried to take her arm.

  Constance shrank away from the familiarity with a loathing and fear which,as her persecutor followed, drove her to the curb.

  "How dare you?" she burst out, finding he was not to be avoided.

  "Now don't be silly, and--"

  There the sentence ended, for the man was jerked backwards by the collar,and then shot forward, with a shove, full length into the gutter.

  "I feared you would need assistance, Miss Durant, and so took the libertyof following you at a distance," explained Dr. Armstrong, as the curpicked himself up and slunk away.

  "You are very--Thank you deeply for your kindness, Dr. Armstrong," gaspedthe girl, her voice trembling. "I ought to have been guided by your adviceand taken the car, but the truth is, I suddenly remembered--that is, Ihappened to be without any money, and was ashamed to ask you for a loan.Now, if you'll lend me five cents, I shall be most grateful."

  "It is said to be a feminine trait never to think of contingencies,"remarked the doctor, "and I think, Miss Durant, that your suggested fivecents has a tendency in that direction. I will walk with you to LexingtonAvenue, which is now your nearest line, and if you still persist then inrefusing my escort, I shall insist that you become my debtor for at leasta dollar."

  "I really need not take you any further than the car, thank you, Dr.Armstrong, for I can get a cab at Twenty-third Street."

  It was a short walk to the car line,--too short, indeed, for Miss Durantto express her sense of obligation as she wished,--and she tried, even asshe was mounting the steps, to say a last word, but the car swept her awaywith the sentence half spoken; and with a want of dignity that was notcustomary in her, she staggered to a seat. Then as she tendered a dollarbill to the conductor, she remarked to herself,--

  "Now, that's a man I'd like for a friend, if only he wouldn't be foolish."

  At eleven on the following morning, Miss Durant's carriage once morestopped at the hospital door; and, bearing a burden of flowers, andfollowed by the footman carrying a large basket, Constance entered theward, and made her way to the waif's bedside.

  "Good-morning," she said to Dr. Armstrong, who stood beside the nextpatient. "How is our invalid doing?"

  "Good-morning," responded the doctor, taking the hand she held out. "Ithink--"

  "We's takin' life dead easy, dat's wot wese is," came the promptinterruption from the pillow, in a voice at once youthful yet worn. "Say,dis oin't no lead pipe cinch, oh, no!"

  It was a very different face the girl found, for soap and water had workedwonders with it, and the scissors and brush had reduced the tangled shagof hair to order. Yet the ferret eyes and the alert, over-sharp expressionwere unchanged.

  "I've brought you some flowers and goodies," said Miss Durant. "I don'tknow how much of it will be good for him," she went on to the doctor,apologetically, "but I hope some will do." Putting the flowers on the bed,from the basket she produced in succession two bottles of port, a mould ofwine jelly, a jar of orange marmalade, a box of wafers, and a dish ofgrapes, apples, and bananas.

  "Gee! Won't Ise have a hell of a gorge!" joyfully burst out the invalid.

  "We'll see about that," remarked Dr. Armstrong, smiling. "He can have allthe other things you've brought, in reason, Miss Durant, except the wine.That must wait till we see how much fever he develops to-day,"

  "He is doing well?"

  "So far, yes."

  "That is a great relief to me. And, Dr. Armstrong, in returning your loanto me, will you let me say once again how grateful I am to you for allyour kindness, for which I thanked you so inadequately last night? Ideserved all that came to me, and can only wonder how you ever resistedsaying, 'I told you so.'"

  "I have been too often wrong in my own
diagnosing to find any satisfactionor triumph in the mistakes of others," said the doctor, as he took thebill the girl held out to him, and, let it be confessed, the fingers thatheld it, "nor can I regret anything which gave me an opportunity to serveyou."

  The speaker put an emphasis on the last word, and eyed Miss Durant in away that led her to hastily withdraw her fingers, and turn away from hisunconcealed admiration. It was to find the keen eyes of the urchinobserving them with the closest attention; and as she realised it, shecoloured, half