“Mr. Harris,” said Donald, attracted by a sign over a doorway, when they had gone a few squares farther on, “I believe this is Mr. Belden's club. Marie-Celeste told me its name once, and I'm almost sure this is it.” Whereupon Ted straightway found himself feeling very much dismayed at the announcement, and his heart misgave him, as hearts have a way of doing when the time has come for mere intention to take the more definite form of action. The object of this search of theirs seemed all at once to Ted the most ridiculous thing imaginable. The idea of expecting that a stranger, to whom his only introduction was that of a cabin-boy of the White Star Line, would be likely to take an interest in him to the extent of making him a loan of a large sum of money at rather a low rate of interest; and then Ted realized what some of us have realized before, that all he had practically to build upon was Marie-Celeste's remark to Donald, “that she felt very sure that the best thing that could happen to this same rich Mr. Belden would be to do a good turn to somebody and Ted once more scored himself a fool to have seriously considered the thing for a moment. But it was too late now to retreat, for Donald was having an animated talk with the buttons of the door of the Reform Club; and Ted, who stood just out of earshot, was the victim of all sorts of uncomfortable sensations as to what the result might be.