The San Francisco Call. Newspaper, December 24, 1905, Page 3

over his imitated signatures. of them makes 3 friend, Mr. Har! and obey me in eve all, & it a fat deserts become slave o How Iichard Congress upon the “nd firset obedic ck row, M ) ser sident t ed, and his ime together uptive “every one reason why my good . must now please me oes. After s jowlish an pig should oble?” APT Gained in Knowledge. at noon Mgnday in December, mandate of the was made Speaker Mr. Hawke wore nd when the drawing 1ce, selected one in a though retiring from r. Hawke subsequently ve as chalrman of the mittee named to natify hat the House had con- declination was accept- d by Speaker TFrost, who calmly lied the place with a member whom Hawke despised. Then the House g into the channel and went wing ahead upon the business of session and in forty-eight hours Haw forgotten, had ceaged to be important to any save himself. The whole of that first Monday night Speaker Frost put in with Senator Hanway in the latter's study, revising committee lists and settling chairman- ships with the purpose of advancing the White House chances of Senator Hanway and destroying those of Gov- ernor Obstinate ! Congress had begun its . no chan made - in those morning c { Richard, who came religiou at eleven 1 to Senator Hanway and look at ¥. The latter young lady was er absent from the Interviews; she had concelved politics, and peace. but mu Thirt othy Richard a haif-hou be in the and promised with their eyes. suspected this 1 weptéd one soft gi is like a horse zave her erest in ncle Pat” no 's ¢éail commoniy lasted r, for Senator Hanway Senate chamber at a wonderful noon. s minutes they were: Dor- and again one another never inter- ove-making, seeln;: wearing blinkers, road before him, thix of himeelf. One morning T Hanway had departed. Dorothy took Richard s to meet the blonde pythoness. Dorothy saild she wanted Bess (o see Rich: of whom she was rkiin by t. grav Marklins ere wom s a practi know less monecy t 1 in may A woman likes cian the ma impor: Whe thing to their ation promoted her to & ten 2 bad been a physician whose p some lived across the street house. Mother Marklin seldom cut of her Marklin was dead. rs. When ousehold, Be: e atmosphere of author- years older than her rich ather were fair nen of fashion: and ce wherein your medicine and make mo any otber walk of drugs. big bills from a phs ady be her own; from the ze of the refiects that there women except the ailments, it all seems ra- : be dangerous di- _(V bt better retura to the { Bess, who visited N { 1 measured out his calis by min- g‘ utes, walch in hend. He ‘heaped up-# Bess and her mother, and \ and the same moment quit e and the world, in with Richard, ng a eailer, th , after _orothy 0y g ws vhe he about am. overwhelming ot an advantagecous f: 1dgy, weak, with shadows of s person named permit maie Mr. me to Fopiing,’ a e you d Richard i was ned in fr g, who she kK haa scertgin of his ard said meth s equally Iming hims ir. Fopling fouad refug had quitted. and main- nself without sound or motici, g straight ahead. Mr, ce. At the mouth, and the fore- at an 2n which aking of roo = chin, aciing he forehead, Altogether, one ing that if he were pt ston: Or y. Your Richard hurried broug unctior ma ke lefend herself. on she?” said inflection, vastly The two were direetic give in mes ing . noceut imformalt conventio all, why v, Bess!™ moment. n a in matcrnal tomes. .ar. Fop.ing relapsed. while was amused. S amusement mus tract the “Some day, as though replyi “Because philosopher and ihe experiment fect. Husbands by marriage. born, not made. so flattering t the length of th getic, thy the strange aid one not? sacred as word of mouth? Bess roiurned to them from the hall. notice of Bess. finely, undisturbed. Mr. Storms,” talk to you on marriage and hus “Why not on marriage and wi 1 would deal of curiosity; rothy with a glance, bim,” whispered pere . Richard, off his slling himself to, course, he friend loves her, 3ess is a beautiful It was a ¢ it drew Dorotk L w Dorothy, vere r a window with a falling ne and quite done. for Bess had steéppad into the hall to ons to a servant. Mr. room away, d looxed after ened litation. Ri and Dorott ous moment with Rict thing was that neither word of love to the 1 bezun to love at sight. er for granted. worship- . with the candid, in to whom n. Af ‘L word of cye us rd. bieated Mr. Fopiing anx- . child!”" returned Bess, Richard of Richard's stuck out to at- She met it e corner t have beamed Bess, ng to a question, I shall ves?” not speak of the the experiment. but of and the resuii, Mar- riage i u causc; the husband an ef- are artificial and made Wives, like poets, are I shall talk to you on marriage and husbands; T original ideas, 1 assure you “Now I can well believe thzt,” de- clared Richard, much tumbled about in his mind. Bess’ Larangue left him wondering whether she might not be possessed of a mild mania on wedlock and husbands. . "You need have no -misgivings,” re- turned Bess, as though reading his thoughts; “you will find me gane to the verge of commonplace.” Richard stare was the mote to Mr. Fopling’s; he could not decide just how hold on the sibyl of the golden Perceiving him wandering in . Dorothy took him upswarmly. you see Bess is laughing at you?” she cried. “You - know her so much bet- ter than 1. argued Richard in extenua- tion of his dullne me day I hope to be so well acquainted with Miss Marklin as to know when she laughs.” “You are to know her as well as I d retyrned Dorothy with decision, “for Bess is my dearest friend.” “And that, I'm sure,” observed Rich- ard, craftily measuring forth a two- edged compliment, “is the highest pos- stble word that could be spoken of either.” At this speech Dorothy was visibly disarmed; whereat Richard congratu- lated himself. *To be earnest with you. Mr. Storms,” said Bess, with just a flash of teasing wickedness toward Dorothy, “I go ahout, even now, carrying the impres- sfon of knowing you extremely well. Dorothy reads me your Jeiters from the Daily Tory; she ‘has elevated lterary tastes, vou know. No, it is not what you write, it is the 'w you write it, t charms and, that 1 may the better appreciate, she obligingly ac- companies her readings with remarks descriptive of the author.” ¢ “Bess, do you think that fair?” and Dorothy’s face put on a reproachful 1 “At least composed] That mo it's true,” returned Bess ning Richard had been flat- tered with a letter from the cditor of zine, asking for a five-thousand rticle on a leading personality f the gabinet. This helped him bear the raillery of Bess: and the raillery, per incident, told.him how much and deeply he was in the thoughts of Doro- thy. which information made the world extremely beautiful. Richard had wait- ed until his thirtieth year to begin to live! He was brought back from a dream of Dorothy by the unexpected projection of Mr. Fopling into the con- versatipn. 1 “The Daily To repeated Mr. Fop- ling, in feeble disgust. “T hate newspa- pahs: they inflame the mawsses.” “Inflame what?” asked Richard. “Inflame the mawsscs ! the common ing was emphatic; and when pling was emphatic he squeaked. Fopling’s father- had been a beef ctor. Likewise he had seen trou- bie h investigating committees, ‘being convicted of bad beef. This may or may had to do with the younger aversion to the press. ‘Certainl coincideq - Bess, again as- ming the maternal, *'the newspapers are exceedingly inflanimatory.” “Your friend Bess,” said Richard to Doro later, “is a bit of bluestocking, isn't e?—one of those girls who give themscives to the dangerous practice of thinking?” { love her from my heart!” returned v, with splendid irrelevance ; femininc; “‘she is a_girl -of gold!"” -, Fopiing; he's of gold, too, 1 take Fopling is very wealthy. I'm glad he's something,” ob- served Richard. “You hate him becsuze he spoke ill of d Dorothy teasingiy. n a glant band i gainst the tree by which O larm runs away Into hate. ghed Richard. Richard. now that the Daily Tory let- ters wore winning praise, that is to say, were being greatly applauded and con- demr began to have in them a mightier price than ever. Educated those rs abroad, he felt the waut of.an American knowlcdge, and “led in to =t government at point- nk range. he read history, mostly poiitical, s he went about like a Diogenes hout the lamp. He put himseif in the of Cabinet men and talked with Sen- ators and Representatives concerning Congressional movements of the day. Being quick, he made discoveries: some of them persomal to himself. As cor- respondent of a New York daily, those Cabinet and men’ of m affabiy; when he was not 1L (hey spoke ferocious’y of him aud craft, gs convicts curse a guard be- d his back, and for much a convict's reason, It was the same at th the =fability. Present or 1ol Ongress en- club without absent, there they turned unsparingly upon him. Rich- ard's status as a newspaper man had been cxplained and fixcs, and they of the club lked him less than before. The Fopling fecling toward the press pre- dominated ‘at the club, and although Richard s never openly snubbed-—his shoulacis were too wide for that—besides, dome sigh of those hand-grips with Storri +d gone about—thé feeling was guanifest, ‘T'his cool distance pieased Richard rather , and he went often to the club 1o cnjoy it. It was parcel of his affected cynicism to like an enemy. When Richard came to Washington it is more than a echance that he was a pa- iroit. But as he went about he saw much to blunt the sentiment. A statesman one who helps his country; a politi- is one who helps himself. Richard und shoals of the latter and none of the other ck One day he asked Speaker Frost, whom he met In Senator Han- way's study, his definition of a states- man. A statesman,” said that epigramist, s a dead politician.” Richard frequented House and Senate gallerics; it was Interesting to watch the notables transacting their fame. The de- bates were a cross-fire of decelt. Not a member gave his true reasons for the votes he cast; he gave what he wanted the world to think were his reasons. Finance was on the carpet in that hour. and bimetallism and monometallism, si than otherw ver versus gold, .were in every one's mouth. Richard saw that the goldbugs hailed from money-lending constituen- cies, whiie the sliverbugs were invariably from cither money-borrowing constitu- cncies or constituencles that had silver to sell. And every man legislated for his district and never for the country; which Richard regarded as an cxtremely narrow course. kEvery man talked of the people’s interest; ¢very man was thinking of his own interest and striving only to locate the butter on his political bread. There was a third cl. made up of those who were nelther goldbugs nor sil- verbugs: they were. straddlebugs, and, like the two sides of the shield, would be gold when looked at by one contingent and silver when viewed by the other. Senator Hanway, whose monk’s face seemed to mark him as private secretary of the Genius of Patriotism, was an emi- those delegations that would make up the convention and choose a candidate for the Presidency. The prudent Senator Hanway would be in line with all opin- jons, and occupied both sides of the money question without becoming the open champion of either. Not alone did Richard, gazing from the galleries, lose faith in the patriotism of House and 8enate men, but he began to doubt the verity of their partisanship. Considering what they did, rather than what they said. he discovered that the true difference between the two great po- litical parties was the difference between cat owis and horned owls, and lay main- 1y in the noises they made. When it came to deeds, both killed chickens, and both appeared equally ready to pillage the hen roosts of government. As for govern- ment—that is o say, the thing control- ling and not the thing controlled; it was made up of the President, the Speaker, and a dozen more in Cabinet and Coa- gress; and that was government. ° ‘The picture nourished Richard's failing of cynicism, and served to dull that cdge of native patriotism which it was as- sumed he owned when first he came. He got an impression of government that left him nothing -to fight and bleed and dle for should the thick mutter of the war- drums call folk to the field. Good: poli- ties, as the term is practiced, means bad patriotism, and Washington was a nest of politics and, nothing efse besides. It made decisively -a situation, so Richard was driven to conclude, wherein that man should be the best patriot who knew least of his own government; he should fight harder and suffer more cheerfully and die more blithely in its defense in exact proportion to his ignorance of whom and what he was fighting and suffering and dying for. It was a sullen conclu- sion sureiy; but, forced home upon Rich- ard, §t taught him a vitriglic harshness that, getting into his letters to ‘ga\'ar all he wrote, gave him national Vogue, and added to that mixture of hatred and admiration with which official Washing- ton was already beginning to regard him Neither did he escapc forming certain estimates of Senator Hanway, and the white purity of what motives underlay hiz public career. For ali that, Richard was quite as sedulous as ever to ad- ence our statesman's fortunes; loyalty is abstract, love concrete, and in a last vsis Richard was-thinking on Doro- thy and not upon the country. michard, you may have observed, was no whit better, no less selfish, than were those about him; and it is as well to know our ¥ young gentleman for what he real- of men, but he studied men themselves. Tie narrowest of these came from paris of the country where region was impor- tant, more thought of for the deeds of vour grandfather than for anything that you vourself might do. This was peculiariy true of men from New England, whose intelligence as well as interest seemed coutinually walking a tight-rope. The New Englander was always and ever the sublimination of a blind, ineffable vanity that went about proposing him as an ex- a 10 the race. And so consciously self-perfect was he that, while coming to opinions touching others. generaily to their disadvantage, e never once be- thought him that others might be form- ing opinions of him. Another New Eng- land weakness was to belleve in the measure more than in the man, and there was not one from that seetion who did not think that If you but introduced among megroes or- Indfans the New Eng- land town meeting, those hegroes and In- diuns, thus blessed, would all and in- stantly become Yankecs. Another - sublme provincial whom Richard” uncovered wuas the Southern. man. He, like the New Englander, was 50 busy thinking on and'revering a past that was dead that he owned little space for anything else. There was, however, one characteristic, common to Southern men, which was wanting i folk from other corners of the coun- try. Richard néver met a Southern man who remembered, assuming such to be his official station. that he was in Cabinet or Congress, while he never met a Northern or a Western or a New England man who for a moment for- got it. This amiable democracy on the Southern t. like other good things, has its explanation. Your Southern man, like a squab pigeon, is biggest n he is born. The one first great act of his nativity is an honor be- vond any-other which the world can confer. 1t is as though he were cradled on a peak; and thereafter, wherever his wanderings may take him, and whether into Congress, Cabinet or White House, he travels always down- hill. It is this to account for that be- nignant urbanity, the inevitable mark of & Southern man, which teaches him faith in vou as corollary of completed confidence in himself. Tt is a beautiful, even though an unreasonable trait, and as such the admiration of Richard recorded Those others. not Southern, educated to @ notlon of office us a pedestal, were inclined to play the turkey cock and epread tieir tails a trifle. Since that sort of self-conceit never fails to tran- sact itself at the expense of the spec- tator, Ricliard looked upon it with no favor, and it drew from him opinfons, not of compliment, concerning those by whom it was exhibited. [t set him te comparisons which ran much in Scuthern favor. After Congressmen and Cabinet men Richard studied Washington itseif. The common condition—speaking now of residents, and not of those who were mere sojourners within the city’'s walls —he found to be one of idleness. the common trait an insatiable bent for Zossip. Government was the sole product of the place, the one grist &round at those miils. No one was made to labor morc than six hours of the twenty-four. And the term labor meant no more than onc-tenth its defi- nition in any other town. Wherefore, even those most engaged of the citi- zenry had leisure to settle the world's most perplexing concerns, and they gencrously devoted it to that purpose. Nor were they abashed by any in- significance of their personal estate. Familiarity does not breed contempt, it breeds conceit. Those who dwell close to the hub of government, even though they build departmental fires, sweep departmental floors and empty departmental waste baskete, from near- ness of contact and a daily perusal of vour truly’ great, come at last to look upon themselves as beings - of tre- mendous importance — and all after the self-gratulatory example of the thoughtful fly | the chariot wheel in the fable. léast of them Dbéholds a picture of'mfi‘:nm’m in every look- ing glass into villich he pecrs. Storrl talked with Mr. Harley; Mr. Harley talked. with Senator Hanway. These conferences were of Credit Ma- gellan: in particular they had concern with the overthrow of Northern Consoli- dated. Congress had been In session ten days when Senator Hanway, one morn- ing, ed Richard to call that evening at 9. *“Th is something which your paper should print,”” said Senator Hanway. THE SAN FRANCISCO SUNDAY CALL. and where you would have been the latter's study sharp upon the hour set. Dorothy was not there; her mother had carried her and the yellow-haired sorceress, Bess, to the theater. It is to be doubted, even if she were free, wheth- er- Dorothy's- interest in her political studies weuld have carried her through a night sesslon. Besides, the™ preoccu: pied Senator Hanway had begun to ob- serve that Richard looked at Dorothy more than he listened to him, and while he suffered no disturbance by virtue of _ this discovery, the present was an occa- sfon when he wanted Richard’s undi- vided attention. Onece seated, Senator Hanway went to the heart of the affair; he made himself clear, for years of debate had cducated him to lucidity. What he desired was a plain, sequential rehearsal in the Daily Tory of those claims and charges against Northern Consolidated. “Nor will 1,” way, flatteringly confidential, ‘“‘conceal my reasons. In the first place the charges have been made, and their ef- fect is to injure Northern Consolidated. You will not state that you know these charges to be true; you will say—if you will be so good—that they are of common report. Once in print, I can make them the basis of an investigation. Fve no doubt—though you will please say noth- ing on that polnt—but what an investiga- tion will disclose how groundless the charges are.” 3 “You are an owner in Northern Con- solidated?” asked Richard. Richard felt no interest beyond a will- ingness to be of service to Senator Han- way, and only put the question to show attentiop’ to his eminent friend. *‘No, no owner,” replied Senator Han- way; “but to be frank, since I know my confidence is safe, it will assist me in a certain political matter the name of which I tnink you can guess.” Senator Hanway's smooth face wore a smile which he intended should prove that he looked upon Richard as cne pos- sessing a rightful as well as an intimate knowledge of those White House plans which he - cherished. Richard did not require the assurance; he was ready without it to come to the aid of Senator Hanway, whom he liked if he did not revere. ‘The next evening Richard’s letter car- ried the story agalnst Northern Consoli- dated. The afternoon of the day on which it was published, Senator Hanway arose in his place and requested that the article be read by the clerk. That done, he sald he was pained and surprised by the publication of such a story, and asked for a committee of three to look into the truth of what was set forth. “For,7 ohserved Senator Hanway, after paying a tribute to Richard and the Daily Tory, in which he extolled the honesty and inteliigent conservatism of both the paper and its correspondent, “for it is only just that the charges be sifted. The Daily Tory dues not make them on its own behalf: it finds them in the mouths of others. Thcy should be taken up and weighed. it there be aught due the Gov- ernment, we have a right to know aud measure it. If the charges are without support—and I have reason to believe that suech is the situation—then Northern Consolidated is entitled to the refutation of a .calumny that, whispered in some quarters and talked aloud in others, has borne heavily upen its Interests.’ No cne opvosed, and Senator Hanway, with Senators Price and Loot, were se- lected to be a special committee. They were to send far men and papers, be open or secret in their sessions, and report to the Senate whenever they rinished the in- quiry. The affair excited no comment, and was forgotten within an hour by all except Stogriwnd Mr, Harley and those other§ of orey pool. } After Bighard vJeft Scnator Hanway upon the' Nerthern Consolidated evening, he ran plump upén an incident that was to have a last profound efrect upon this history. N ohe not a prophet would buve gnesséd this from the charaeter, for on its ignoble face it was nothing better than just a drunken clash between a Caueasian and an African tri- umvirate that had 1scked horns with him in fhe street. The Caucasian, moved of Mquor and pride of skin, had demanded the entire sidewa'k. He enforced his de: s by shoving the obstructing Afri- us into the gutter. The latter, recalling amendments to the orga law of the land' faverable to folk of color, cbjected. In the war that followed, owing to an in- equality of forces, the Caucasian—albeit a galiant soul—was given the bitter side of the argument, Richard came upon them as he rcunded a coruer; the quartet at the time made a struggiing, scrambling, cursing tangle, rolling about the side- walk. Being one in whom the race instinct ran powerfully, and who was not untaintéd of antipathies to red men and yeilow men and black men and all men not wholly white, Richard did not pause to inguirve the rights and the wrongs of the alterca- tiop. He scized unon the topmzost person of color and pitched him into the street. Then he pitched another after him. The third, getting some alarming notions of what was going on, arvse and tled. Noxe of the three came back; for discretion not absent from the Arrican, il those whom Richard personally disposed of felt as might ones who had escaped from some malignant providence which they did not thing It wise or fitting to further tempt. As for number three, he was pleased to himself a block away, and did all Le might to add to it, like a miser to his hoard. Negroes gone, Richard set the white man on his feet, and asked him how he tared. The gentleman shook himself and announced that he was uninjured. Then be =aid that hic was drunk, \which was unnecessary confidence. It developed that he followed the trade of printer: also that he had just come to town. He had no money, he had no place to sleep; and, what was wonderful to Richard, he ap- peared in no whit cast down, by his bank- rupt and bedless state. He had had money; but llke many pleasant optimistic mem- bers of his mystery of types. he had pre- ferred to spend it in liquor, leaving hum- drum questions, such as bed and board, to solve themselves, “For,” said the bhedless one, “I'm a tramp yprinter!” And he flung forth the adjective as though it was a fitle of re- spect. Having invested some little exertion in the affairs of the stranger, Richard thought he might as well go forward and Invest a little money. With that he went out of his way to lead the drunken one to a cheap hotel, where the porter took him in charge under contract to put him to bed. The consideration for the latter at- tention was a quarter paid in hand to the porter; with the proprietor R.chard left ten dollars, and orders to give the devi- “ous one the change in the morning after deducting for his entertainment. The rescued printer, clothed and in his right'mind, called upon Richard the next afternoon to thank him for his generosity and say that his name was Sands. Mr. Sands, being sober and shaven, with clothes brushed, was in no sense a spec- tacle of shame. leed, there were worse- looking people sing laws for the na- tion. Richard was pleased, and said €o. “If T had a job, I'd go to work,” said "Mr. Sands, having had, as he express it, “his drunk out.”” © The habit of charity grows upon one like the liquor habit; moreover, if once nent straddiebug. He was thinking on Richard was with Senator Hanway in you help a man, you ever after feel com- observed Senator Han-. incident's pelled to help him to the end of time. Richard was no exception to these philan- thropic laws, and when Mr. Sands de- clared an eagerness- to go to work, brought him to.Senator Hanway, who promptly berthed him upon the Govern- ment printing office, where he was given “‘case,” and commenced tossing types after the manner of a master. If Senator Hanway had been able to probe the future, instead of setting Mr. Sands to work that December after- noon, he would have paid his way to London, had a trans-Atlantic trip been made the price of being rid of him. But a Senator is not a soothsayer, and no impression of the kind once touched him. He got Mr. Sands his billet and said it gave him pleasure to comply with the request of his young friend, Mr. Storms. To Richard the hereafter was as opaque as it was to Senator Hanway, and, having seen his pro- tege installed, he walked away uncon- scious of a morn to dawn when Mr. Sands would recur as an instance of that bread upon the waters which re- turns after many days. CHAPTER VIIL “How Storri Wooed Mrs. Hanway- Harley. 3 Storri was a sensualist to his fingers’ ends. Being a sensualist, he was per- force an egotist, and the smallest of his ‘desires became the star by which he lzid his course. Through stress of appetites, as powerful as they were gross, he had grown sharp to calcu- late and quick to see. He was con- trolled and hurried down by currents of a turbid selfishness: nor would he have stopped at any cruelty, balkéd at any crime, when prompted of -what brute hungers kept his soul awake. He might have wept over (failure, never from remorse. And Storri had set his savage heart on Dorothy. Dorothy felt an aversion to Storri, and she could not have told you why. The mystery of it, however, put no question to her; she yleldeda with ‘folded hands, passive to its influence. She did not hate Storri, she shrunk from him; his nearness chilled her like the nearness of a reptile. Kipling, the matchless, tells how a Russian does not become alarming until he tucks in his shirt and Insists upon himself as the most Eastern of Western peoples instead of the most Western of East- ern peoples. There is truth to sit at the bottom of this, Dorothy would have met Storri with indifference had that nobleman seen fit to catalogue himself, socially, as a Kalmuck Tartar, not of her strain and tribe; she was set a-shudder when made to meet him un- der conditiens which admitted the pro- priety of marriage between them, should sne and he agree. As it stood, Dorothy was ailve for flight the mo- ment Storri stepped into her presence; she knew by intuition the foulyess of his fiber and shivered at any threat of contact therewith. . Storri was aware of Dorothy's dis- like, since aversion is the one senti- ment a woman cannot conceal. The discovery only made him laugh. He Wwus too much the conqueror of women to look for failure here. Should he, Storri, who had been sighed for by the fairest of a dozen stately courts, re- ceive defeat from a livde American? Bah! he would have her at his ease, win her at his pleasure! Dorothy's ef- forts to avoid him gave pursuit a piquancy! While Storr: noted Dorothy's distaste for him, he did not get slightest slant of her tender prcference for Richard. As far as he might, Storri had taught himself cont:mpt for Richard. This was net the simplest task; it is hard to despise one whom your heart fears and before whose glance your own eyes waver and give way. Still, Storri got on with his contempt beyond what one might have .magined. He conslidered all Americans beneath him, and Rich- ard was an American. There he had an advantage at the start. Also, Rich- ard was of the newspapers. Even those Americans about him, with their own sneers and shoulder-shrugs, showed him how such folkk were unworthy genteel countenance. They looked down upon Richard, Storri looked down upon them; the greater included the less, and deduc- tions were easy. Storri arrived at a most happy contempt of Richard as a math- ematician gets to the solution of a prob- lem, and, being mercurial, not thought- ful, arranged with himselt that Richard was below consideration. Richard and Storri made no sign of social recognition when their paths cross- ed by change. At such times the latter held an attitude of staring superiority— the fellow, perhaps, to that which be- longed with Captain Cook when first he saw the Sandwich Islanders. Had Storri been of rcflective turn he might have remembered that, as a gustatory finale, those serene islanders roasted the mari- ner, and made their dinner off him. Mr. Harley was a busy man, and yet he had no office rooms, This was not his fault; he had once set.out to establish himself with such a theater of effort, but Senator Hanway put down his foot. “No; no office, John!” sald that states- man. Then Senator Fanway. who was as furtive as a mink, called Mr. Harley's attention to the explanation which & nar- row werld would give. Those office rooms would be peinted to as the market-place where corporations rulght trude for his (Senator Manway's) services. If you please, we'll have no such ar- gument going about,” observed Senator Hanway. . This want of a business headquarters, while- it may have been an inconveni- ence to Mr. Harley, now arcse to tall with the desires of Storrl. It gave him a pretext'for calllng at the Harley house; with Mr. Harley as excuse, and making a pretenss of having = business with him, he could break in at all man- ner of quee: hours. Storri made a study of the Harley househeld. About 4 in the afterncon it was Mra. Hanway-Harley's habit to retire and refresh herself with a nap, against the demands of dinner and what social gaveties mizght follow. Mr. Harley, him- self, was apt to be hovering about the Senate corridors. Or he would be hold- Ing pow-wow with men of importance, at one of the ho- not interested in restoring naps, would be alone. Where- fore, it became the practice of Storri to appear of an aftermoon at the Harley house and ask for Mr. Harley. Not find- ing that business man, Storri, who did not insist that his errand was desperate, would idle an hour with Dorothy. Storri thought. himself one to fascimate a woman, and had a fine confidence in his powers to charm. He had studied conquest as an art. When he beleaguered a girl's heart, hls first approaches were modeled on the free and jovial. During these afternoon calls he talked much. laughed joudly, and by his mananer would have it that Dorothy and he were on cheeriest terms. Storri made no head- way; Dorothy met his laughter with a. cool reserve that baffled while It left him furious. > Storri essayed (he sentimental, and came worn with homesickness. He was near to tears as he related the imaginary sickness of a mother whom he had in- vented for the purpose. Dorothy's cool reserve continued. She sympathized, con- versationally, and hoped that Storri would hufry to his expiring parent’s side. Storri. like Richard, craved a rose and got it; but he fastened it upon his lapel himself. On_ Storri's fourth call Bess Marklin came in. Being there, Bess took Storri to herself. She betrayed a surprising in- terest in statistics—the populations of cities, crops, politics and every other form of European whatnot—and kept Storri answering questions lke a school- boy. Thereafter, Storri was no sooner in the Harley house when, presto! from over tne way our pythonmess sweeps in. Bess was there before the servant had taken Storr!'s hat. This disturbing for- tune depressed him; he attributed it to ill luck, *never once observing that the in- stant he appeared Dorothy’s black maid skipped across to summon Bess. “Really, Bess,’™ rleaded Dorothy, fol- lowing Storri's fourth call—she had gone to tae Marklins just a..er her admirer left—"really, Bess, if you love me, rescue me. There was never such a bore! Posi- tively, the creature will send me to my grav And, Desides"—with a little shiver—*I have a horror of the man!" And so the good Bess came each time, and faithfully refused to budge for the whole of Storri's visit. With that, the latter saw less and less reason to confer with Mr. harley of an afternoon; also he resolvéd upon a change of tactics in his’ siege of Dorothy. Thus far Storri hau faied, and the fail- ure set ..m on fire. The savage in him was stirred. His vanity found itself de- fied; and the onyx eyes would burn. and the mustaches twist like snakes. as ho reflected on how he had been foiled and put aside. Had he known that Richard was in Dorothy’s thought, that it was he to hold her heart against him, Storri would have choked. But he had gatheréd no such knowledge; nor was he posted as to those morning love trysts at wuich Senator Hanway unconsciously presided. Storri still visited the Harley house, but his visits were now to Mrs. Hanway-Har- ley. And he would pour compliments for that shallow lady, which said compli- ments our s -llow one drank in like water from the well. Mrs. Hanway-Har- ley had never known a more finished gen- tleman; and so she told her friends. “It is a pity,” cried Storri ome day “that Europe has none such as yourself to set examples of refinement! Now if your beautiful daughter would but ma some nobleman happy as his wife! You would come to Europe, no?” and Sterri spread his hands in rapture over so much possible good fortune. “Yes. if your lovely daughter would but condescend!™ Storri paused, and sighed a sigh of power. Mrs. Hanway-Harley thought this ex- ceeding fine; the treacle of coarse compli- ment sweetened it to her Some would have laughed at such fustian. Mrs. Hanway-Harley was none of these: the compliment she laughed at must emanate from some one not a Count. None the less, “she could see that something was at the back of it all. There was Storri's sigh as though a heart had broken. Pad Storri made some soft advance, and had Dorothy repulsed him? Mrs. Hanway- Harley could have shaken the girl! Storri read all this in, Mrs. Hanway- Harley's face as theugh It had been wri ten upon paper. He saw that the mother would be his ally; Mrs. Hanway-Harley was ready to enlist upon his side. There- upon, Storri drew himself together with dignity. “In my own land, madam,” said Storri. conveying the Impression of a limitle: deference for Mrs. Hanway-Harley. “it 1s not permitted that a gentleman pay his addresses to the d:aghter until he kas her mother's ccnsent. 1 adore our daughter—who uld help!—but I cannot tell her unless Fou approve. And so, ma dam,” with a deepest of bows, “I, who am a Russian gentleman, come to you.” Mrs. uousl; Hanway-Harley was not so sin- adrolt as her brother, Senator but she was capable of every conventioral art. If Storri's declaratian stirrcd her vride. she never showed 1t: if her soul exulted at a title in her fam- ily and a probable presentation of herself to royalty, she con.-aled it. True, she was i.clined to tilt | r nose a vulgar bit; but she did not let Storri perceive it. reserving the nose-tilting for ladies of her acquainiarece wh the betrothal of Dorothy and Storri should be an- nounced. Indeed, her conduct, on the hon- orable occasion of Storri’s request, could not have been more graceful nor more guarded. She said that she was honored by Storri's proposal, and touched by his delicacy in first coming to her. She could do no more, however, than grant him the permission craved, and secure to him her best wishes. “For, much as I love my daughter,” explained Mrs. Hanway-Harley, mount- ing a maternal pedestal and posing, “I could not think of coercing her choice. She will marry where she loves.” A sigh at this period. “I can only say 'that, should she love where you desire, it can- not fall to engage my full approval.” Storri pressed his lips to Mrs. Hanway- Harley's hand as well as he could for the interfering erust of diamonds, and said she had made him happy. “It will be bliss, madam, to call my- self vour daughter's husband,” said Stor- ri; “but it will be highest honor to find myself your son.” Storri did not tell Mrs. Hanway-Harley of those afternoon calls, and the blight of Bess to fall upon them with her eter- nal crops and polities and populations. Mrs, Hanway-Harley, while she griev- ously suspected from Storri's sigh— which little whisper of despair still sound- ed in her ears—that he had met reverses, would not voice her surmise. She would treat the affair as commencing with Stor- ri’s request. But she would watch Dor- othy: and if she detected symptoms of faflure to appreciate Storri as a noble- man possessing wealth and station—in short, if Dorothy betrayed an intention to refuse his exalted hand—then she, Mrs. interfere. She Hanway-Harley., w.uld would take Torothy in and compel thaz obtuse ma’ redounded to her .ood. Mrs. Hanway- Harley doubted neither the propriety nor the feasibility of establishing a censor- ship over Dorot.y’'s heart, should the young lady evinc: a blinded inability to see her own welfare. “That is what a mother is for,” she ruminated. Mrs. Hanway-Harley had forcibly ad- ministered paregoric In Dorothy's baby- hood; she was ready to forcibly adminis- ter a husband now Dorothy had grown up. The cases were in precise parallel, and never the ray of distrust entered Mrs. Hanway-Harley's mind. Dorothy was not to escape good fortune merely be- cause, through some perversity of girlish ignorance, she might choose to waive it Mrs. Hanway-Harley had Mr. Harley ask Storri to dinner on an average twice a week; she made these slender banquets wholly informal, &nd quite as though Storr! were an intimate family friend. Storri commended the absence of stilts, this abandonment of the conventional. “It is what I like!" he cried: “it is the compliment I shall most speak of when I am back with my Czar."” Following dinner, Mrs. Hanway-Harley