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186 architect at once, though there were others ahead of him waiting,—women who, he reflected bitterly, had a better right than he to consult so expensive a gentleman. One of the draughtsmen took him into an inner room, and after a moment Stewart, wearing his long gingham blouse, entered.

"Mr. Lee," said Hugh, looking at him gravely, "I told you I had three thousand dollars to spend on a house—not a cent more. The builder tells me it cost six thousand."

"Oh, that's absurd," said Stewart with a laugh. "I have n't had the bill yet, but it won't be anything like that."

"He told me he mailed you the bill last night," Hugh answered.

"Then maybe it's here." Stewart turned to a desk. "I have n't had a chance to look at the morning mail yet. Yes, I guess this may be it."

He tore open an envelope and glanced over the contents with a frown. "Fifty-eight hundred and sixty-five dollars," he said aloud. "Well, that's all wrong, of course; he's made a big mistake. I'll straighten it all out, Mr. Farrell. Don't let it worry you for a moment; three thousand dollars is the cost of that house, and you can take my word for it. Satisfied with it, I hope?"

"Oh, it's fine," said Hugh, whose face had brightened with intense relief. "And you're sure it'll be all right, Mr. Lee?"

"Absolutely," Stewart answered. He gave him a friendly pat on the shoulder. "I guess you were kind of bowled over; I don't wonder. Never mind; I'll have this corrected, and then you won't think me a fraud." "Thank you," Farrell said heartily. "I'm sorry I had to trouble you—but you see how it was."

"Of course; I'm sorry you had such a scare. Good-by," and Stewart came with him out into the room where waited the well-dressed women, and there shook his hand.