Was he in a dream, or was he hearing aright? The Lockwood place was just next door to their own. In many ways it was not as desirable as the Reed house. Could it be possible that a miracle like this had happened right at his side just when he was in despair?

And what should he do about it? Lean forward and snap it up at once? They were almost at the station now where he should get off. He did not know where this Mrs. Steele lived, though he could probably find out. But—would it be wiser to wait till evening and go to her home? No. She might be going away somewhere or be having a dinner party. There might be a delay, and every minute now counted so desperately. Yet something fine and wise in him told him that in a matter of such great importance he must not act in a hasty, childish frenzy. He must go about it in a businesslike way. And it would not do to let her know he had overheard her conversation. It would prejudice her against him at once and might spoil the whole thing. He tried to be calm, to close his eyes and think. He remembered the figures he had heard the lady quote. It would not do to let her know that he knew what she was willing to pay. No, he must wait; even in his desperation he must be calm and take every step cautiously. He must try to follow her if possible, at least to see in which direction she went. Would she be the Mrs. George Steele of whom there was so much talk, the woman who was so philanthropic? Surely he had heard his mother speak of her.

Then, as if in answer to his thought, the lady spoke again.

“I am expecting the car to meet me at the station. Couldn’t I drop you somewhere on the way? I’m sorry I can’t take time to run in and see those etchings at Hatch’s you spoke of, but I promised George I’d be home early tonight. He has to leave on the six o’clock train for Chicago, and he’s as helpless as a child about getting his things together to pack. He likes me to do that for him, instead of a servant, so I like to humor him.”

She smiled at her friend as they rose and gathered up their belongings and the train drew to a full stop.

Thurlow had turned away, looking out the opposite window. Just as well she should not see his face and recognize him as one who might have overheard her talk. The two ladies drifted past him out the door without looking in his direction, and he came more slowly behind them, keeping them in sight without being seen himself, until they disappeared into a handsome limousine that stood waiting. Then he hurried into the drugstore and looked up Mr. George Steele’s address in the directory. Of course the telephone book might have given it, but so many of those rich people were listed privately that one couldn’t be sure of finding everybody there.

Having written the address down carefully, Thurlow went whistling home and entered the house with a happier look on his face than he had worn in many a day.

“You’ve had some good news!” cried his sister joyously.

He looked at her, sobering down.

“No, not exactly,” he said with a quick little sigh. “It might not turn out to be anything. I just had a hunch.”

“Oh,” said Rilla despondently. “Didn’t anything come of that post office affair?”

“Not a thing!” he said emphatically.