The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, October 4, 1903, Page 9

ol 2 UI— HTS is the third installment of Lees and Leaven” by E. W. the famous author “Chimmie Fadden,” whose Townsend, at latest work is creating a tremendous sensation. Tbe whole book will be completed next Sunday. This publication is the more nota- bie from the tact that mot only did the suthor begin his career on The Oall, but the Bunday Cal ented writer's latest novel in form. In point of t you cannot g%t “Loss apd Leaven” in any other form whatever for less than twenty times the cost of the Sunday “Call. That is & simple little fact worth pendering if you like the best that is being writven in America to-day. L90E I s a7 S 3 wilrs = atances, but not a friend, New York. Her circle grew by & process warranted to segure sl growth— eners call by tr- se soclety ‘alied.-freely o had used p fave b fused all offers to s gant lawyer na: A pent for him—sent for him, not gone to band. an offer to put the have her own way bim—he had made to the proposed iron combine at a n so fabulous that it was treated wver as only another way of Ing to seli; and he told ac and not very politely. ery Bannister,” Bunton had replied; owd will come to my terms, one va by Bt we. day; and when that day comes you may cail on me-sdon’t send for me, for I'll not e to you again.” His boldness and succees in “holding up the combine,” as his action was called, gave him a reputation that made him the leader of a mew element in the street: a joyously gay lot of Buccaneers who held that there was no mystery in Wall stres that the men who pretended to be ru ning the gambling game played there were playing under false pretenses; that the Buccaneers had as many rights and privileges as the old line of chartered privateers in those waters, and proposed to exercise them, Meny of these new acquaintances of the street were also Westerners, and like Iseac had come to New York with thelir families to live. These merry marauders mede up & considerable part of the Bun- tons’ soclal life, and were preferred to the natives, as seeming to depend less upon irrigation and fertilizsing than the flower of acquaintance. Even v approved of this element of thelr al circle. She met in it maldens and s who enjoyed the matines her own degree of enthusiasm; and r company, check upon her 1 chance acquaint- These were people or related—vaguely— stageland was com- it Intense; her strongest impul i have been an as- nan had she known s keeping her under one person had a list her matinee-made T notion of a considerabla ence she carried on w her she would have nown that proud, the ver learned any- which he . This racteristic was of sr convenience he men who managed him and his af- infrequency with an idea. Most of t were original with slow growth of sugges- d the chiet interests, e latter had a man- Mr. Worthington as if he not an institution, and more influence over him any one else. But unfortunately Worthington was not wholly an in- he 4id &t rare intervals have initiative* cerebrations; - mental ich.it was ‘always dif- the great man was even altering one of* these made opinigns than he s mind when it had 1 made up for him by Mr. Bapnister. was that his.own idea tt his el id solve the difficulty over f the iron combine, by mar- mt by to ques- heresy or madness, never quarreled, with her hus- order to younger brother might engage affairs, pleased. The family had its traditions in proved; and as to personal charm, if , “I do not quite understand your atti- for she had more than enough cleverness to make it appear that he regulated them; and with his business affairs she never meddled, for she knew that Caleb Bannister was the head of the cablnet that managed them and her high regard for that Jawyer's wisdom was not the least evidence of her own. But here was a matter that was neither business nor soclal; that neither involved income nor a dinner list; a matter that touched her affections—born with thelr object—her son! Jack, her first-born, she loved. He was her first love and, though he had a brother and sister, her greatest love. Mr. Worthington was a deliberate man; he did not nhotiy press his idea that Jack should offer Misc Bunton a seat on the throne; he feli, indeed, that a marriag of this mpor! - should be approached with the dignified measure of the minuet, not the antic haste of the twostep. This was an affair of state, involving the suc- cession of the house of Worthingtomn; not & vulgar love affair, in which Jack's it he this respect, as strong &s the laws of other dynasties, and those traditions had all been ‘observed in the will Caleb Ban- nister had long ago drawn and John Worthington signed. Jack was to suc- ceed as the head of the house, the direc- tor of its affairs and the owner of by far the largest part of its fortuns. Mr. Worthington had ecritically obgerved Dailsy upon several occasions of ceremony and found that she was a young person of good demeanor, with & suggestion of haughtiness in her look he much ap- Jack had any foolish preferences in that regard, why, ‘\u’ely Miss Bunton, so far from lacking In that respect, to be more than usually well favored. us he solemnly prosed to his wife, who was iess acquiescent in the matter than pleased him, tude In this affair, Nan,” he said to her, ‘when he began to show some impatience over her failure to forward the match. “You can have no objection to the mar- riage, of course, knowing how highly !m- portant it is that the property Buntoa owns should be incorporated in our inter- ests. Have you spoken to Jack on the subject ™ “I have not.™ “But he understands our wishes?™ “He understands your wi pays Miss Bun ¢ is no hurry.” “I do mot is hurry. I never hurry. But I fess to some eagerness to have th made and annocunced. young woman Is personally attractive; her father is known to be a man of weal at mining prop- erty alone is worth a large fortune—and she may become ed at Jack's faint- heartedness and accept some one else.” “Well, John,” his wife replied, with the smile she could usually end a subject with, Jack loses Miss Bunton we need not despair of seeing 1 married.” But he would not be tu He returned to the subject nerves on fire, she laughed gay the room, angrier and more troubled than she had ever been before. She sent for Caleb Bannister. His heavy, emotionless face expressed not even surprise when, the Instant the servant who admitted him had departed, she, striding up and down the room, exclaimed: “Help me! 1 could see my son dead with leas grief than ses him married to that woman. John Worthington was never wholly deter- mined on a thing before in his life. What can I tell him? He s blind—absolutely blind! He sees only her pretty face; her insolent manner he takes for hauteu sees that she !5 the only child of this ras cal Bunton—that is all! If she were only a silly minded girl Jack could marry her, I suppose, and not be shamed in the world by her; find his entertainment where he liked. But her mind !s mot silly—it is looss. I kmow! She haunts matinees, cafes, t eets, even, if she must, to ses, and yes—ugh—to fiirt with Jow rufians! There is something worse than that she has a low, common mind— something. I can't explain it to you, but I'll learn, yet! If the creature Is not ac- tually evil—no, I don't understand it, but there is—help me! How can you heip me, you who are wise, and know John?” Mr. Bannister was the only human be- ing who had seen and heard the reputed- 1y always serene good-tempered Nan Worthington give expression to her actual feelings. Perhaps it was because he had been a witness to her lapses into perfect honesty that he did not now seem much interested in her anger, but sald quietly “You used the word ‘rascal’ In speaking of Mr. on."” “Dia 12 “Did you not?” “Well 2 “Because of any information you have eoncerning him?” “Him?" Her brain was filled with the subject of the daughter. She Aid not un- derstand the interest the lawyer showed you spoke of him as & Tas- he persisted patiently. 7 she asked, stop- to look at him inquir- ingly. “We may con: h tder the assumption & uch danger of doing . 1 was asking if cause of any in- “1 know he is a rascal ] believe he is; and my bellef is based ome evidence. ¥ knowledge, I as- y d—on evidence?" uiz. You stioning ted on what we ¢ a more be« an we are, I sup- know we k wildered lot of fo pose. May th the subject I begged you \ere to discuss?” “If yo - “How shall v impatiently. st danger of solish match If he is left to n There are fifty girls in New York from whom he could choose; any one of them wou!d make him a suita- ble wife. If there w no othéer reason why he should not marry this Buaton giri-he does not care for her!” *“How do you know?" ice. Bhe started at the abruptness of the question. “Youalways ask reasons”” she declared petulantly. “That principal reason that the Worthingtc terests pay me fifty thou- sand a year, mada “Well, I can give love with—with som “With a Miss Grace [ about to say She looked at hir question, reas Jack is In else. 2xton, you were in astonishment, and “How do you ‘Miss Paxton s sional visitor, an ¢ with her broiher, e. Jack is a member of our y Club; Mrs. Bannister has had h iinner on some of the occasiops of Miss Paxton's visfts." “So you have seen them together! I only heard him speak of her. But that was enough.” “Is it because Jack's affections are em-