"Not yet?"
"No, sir."
"Well, I hope and trust that time will prove you wrong and me right."
"I hope so, certainly," answered Theodore, dryly.
"But you don't believe it." And Mr. Stephens laughed a little as he added: "Now, Mallery, if you should happen to be mistaken this time!"
Theodore answered him only by a grave smile as he went out of the room. It was a busy spot outside—clerks and cash boys were flying hither and thither, and customers were many and impatient. Making his way through the crowd, bowing here and there to familiar faces, Theodore sought for the person who awaited him.
"A queer looking personage," the clerk had said, and over by one of the windows stood a meek-faced old woman, attired in a faded dress and shawl, and a rather startling bonnet as regarded shape. She looked as if she might be waiting or watching for somebody—at least she was not looking around with the air of a purchaser, and she was being rudely jostled every moment by thoughtless people or hurried clerks. Theodore resolved to discover for himself if this were the one in waiting, and advanced to her side.
"Can I do anything for you, madam?" he asked, with as respectful a tone as he would have used to Miss Hastings herself.
The woman turned a pair of startled eyes upon him; then seeming to be reassured, asked suddenly:
"Be you Mr. Mallery?"