finer than ours."

When Smithson had left the office, Gilder turned to his
secretary.

"Take this," he directed, and he forthwith dictated the following
letter to the husband of the lady who was not a thief, as
Smithson had so painstakingly pointed out:

"J. W. GASKELL, ESQ., "Central National Bank, New York.

"MY DEAR Mr. GASKELL: I feel that I should be doing less than my
duty as a man if I did not let you know at once that Mrs. Gaskell
is in urgent need of medical attention. She came into our store
to-day, and----"

He paused for a moment. "No, put it this way," he said finally:

"We found her wandering about our store to-day in a very nervous
condition. In her excitement, she carried away about one hundred
dollars' worth of rare laces. Not recognizing her, our store
detective detained her for a short time. Fortunately for us all,
Mrs. Gaskell was able to explain who she was, and she has just
gone to her home. Hoping for Mrs. Gaskell's speedy recovery, and
with all good wishes, I am, "Yours very
truly."

Yet, though he had completed the letter, Gilder did not at once
take up another detail of his business. Instead, he remained
plunged in thought, and now his frown was one of simple