Upon her appearing the young man stood looking upon her without a word.

As a matter of fact, he was struggling with a problem; a problem that was quite bewildering; the problem, namely, "How could hair ever manage to get itself into such an arrangement of waves and curls, and golden gleams and twinkles ?" Struggling with this problem, he became conscious of her voice gravely questioning him.

"You were wishing to see my brother ?" The young man came back part way, and replied, "Oh! how does it--?
That is--.

I beg your pardon." The surprise in her face brought him quite to the ground, and he came at once to his business.

"I am Mr.
Martin," he said in a quick, sharp voice.