"He is old enough to be your father—the old fool!" said Randall, resentfully.
It seemed to him profanation that such a man should have thought of appropriating the fresh beauty of the charming girl at his side.
"He thought I ought to regard myself honored by his proposal," said Rose, smiling, as she thought of the unromantic figure of her elderly lover.
"He has found out by this time that you hold a different opinion. If he should ever persecute you again, I hope I may be at hand to rescue you once more."
"I am not likely to meet him, and have no further occasion to make vests for a living. If you will kindly stop the next up-town car, I will not longer detain you."
"Certainly," answered Randall; and as a car was just at hand, he complied with her request.
He stood on the sidewalk, following, with his glances, the Broadway car into which he had helped Rose.
"I wish I dare follow her, and find out who she is," said Randall to himself; "but she might misinterpret my motive and class me with that elderly reprobate with whom I was compelled to interfere. What a charming girl she is! I never saw a sweeter expression, or a more beautiful complexion."
He was in a day-dream, from which he was presently roused.