Charlie's reply was lost in a call to the dining room, where light
refreshments were served to the hungry young people by waiters from
among their number; then turn about, and the waiters were waited upon;
and through it all ran the laugh and jest of happy young folks, who
thoroughly enjoyed each other's company, and who for one evening met
on common ground. After supper, came games and more music, while a few
of the more earnest ones, in an out-of-the-way corner, discussed the
reading room and planned for its future. Then came a call for everyone
to sing, and with Amy at the piano, they sang song after song until
it was time to go. Then the bustle of leave-taking--good nights--lovely
time--my house next month--and Dick found himself walking downtown,
arm in arm with his friend. "Well," said the latter, "how about it?"

"Thank you for a pleasant evening," replied Dick. "But say, those folks
don't know me, do they?"

"Some of them do; some don't. What does it matter?"

"Well, tell me, did those who know how I came to town, know that I
would be there tonight?"

"_No, sir,_" said Charlie, emphatically. "What do you take me for,
Dick?"

"Forgive me," said Dick. "I ought to have known better, only you see
my experience with church people, and--well--I'm a bit sore I guess.
I couldn't believe there were any like those. I didn't know, that's
all," and with a "good-night," he turned down the street toward his
humble lodging place, while Charlie went on toward home.