The record-union., 1894-04-28

meal served where they were, and they
were soon seated under the mellowed
lights of the little court, scarcely more
than picking at a dainty DINNER, each
secretly curious concerning the condl-
tions leading to the others manner and
mood.
Grace Garble was a young woman OF
remarkable physical beauty, almost a
leader OF fashion, prominent in a score OF
charitable enterprises, with unlimited
means at her disposal, and. since her
mothers death five years before, as the
mistress of the Garble mansion, had been
petted and courted by society as few
women find it possible to be- Impulsive
and generous almost to dangerous de-
gree, she still possessed the faculty for
quiet observation and kindly, compass
sionate Judgment which had distin-
guished her mother, while it was observ-
able that she was not lacking in her
fathers celebrity of action and his un-
bending determination OF character and
purpose.
TO her great advantage, be it said, this
stern element of her character never
reached tyranny, while her determina-
ton grew out of consideration largely
rather than from unreasoning impulse or
sudden whim. Her father idolized her,
perhaps tinge of fear entering this
idolatry. not the fear portentious of real
error, but the lowering dread that her
conscientious judgment might in an un-
happy moment proceed with will as
unyielding as his own to the point of
open rupture and destruction of the ten
der relations between them.
This foreboding was never so strong on
Jeremy Garble as this night when he had
determined on still more sweeping re-
form in the various departments of his
great journal, and when he sat there op-
posite his daughter and banteringly drew
from her lips her philosophy of hnman
success.
"Well," she continued, blushing at her
own boldness, my idea of home is a
little home, comfortable home, home
where there are many happy faces, and
not merely one or two worried, badgered,
forlorn, calculating, endlessly plotting,
hunted, forced-march faces"
Rather too many adjectives there,
Grace! We'd have to 'blue-pencip some
of them down at the Office"
''But they tell just what mean, faith
er. A home is where the husband and
father leaves his haunting horrors be-
hind, when he enters its door and is glad
of the gladness he finds to welcome him.
Eight rooms, not eighty, are enough for
such a home. 1t should be nest, not a
she'll"
Here she made little gesture with her
hand. 1t seemed to comprise the great
Garble mansion, and her fathers fore
boding sat still more heavily upon his
mind.
"Then you do not approve of such a
home as have been able to provide?" he
said with some show of feeling.
THAT sort of thing is not altogether un
worthy. 1t is simply unnecessary. Some
one is always ground down, crowded out,
put aside, harmed, in the process of pal
ace instead of home building"
THAT is very fine for your firstly
Grace. believe your secondly was re-
garding 'content?'"
Precisely; content. Not the content
that makes sluggards; the content that
has blessed joy in blessed little things
fair progress, fair profits, equable, steady
gainings. To apply it to yourself now,
father. When the circulation of your
paper reached fifty thousand copies we
lived in that dear little old brick house
the Molds live IN now, where the really
only happy hours we all knew were
passed. Mother was alive, although
dragged out with anxiety over your anx-
ieties. but still hopeful that the day was
near when we could have you with US
more and more. Then, one hundred
thousand was the mark. Then a great
building must be erected. Then-well,
mother is gone; your newspaper circula-
ton is the largest; your loads are in
creased, not lightened; you have very
great wealth and power and prestige.
Isn't that pretty nearly all, father?''
"Why, Grace, have you ~ replied
the great editor with genuine burst of
feeling.
Not altogether. father. There are other
claims, you know, which will increase.
And, besides, deeply as 1 love you,
tilially, 1 find myself liking you less
and less, the greater and richer you be-
comeW
Jeremy Garble looked at his daughter
in utter amaZement.
Now, father dear, don't be offended!
You would have a just contempt for me
if you thought 1 hid such things from
you. Every day of your life you are be-
coming more irritable, more unreasona-
BILE, more unjust"
'.What do you mean, Grace?' he asked
almost Indignantly.
THAT this brings me to my thirdly
the subject of friends. Few men can
calmly sustain great success. This is
largely from the fact that true friends
grow fewer in proportion to ones in
creasing power. Those whose friendship
one longs to possess, fear that relation
ship. Those who seek a powerful mans
friendship too often have sinister mo-
tives. Between those fearing and those
seeking, such man becomes the loneli-
est of mortals. This moment you haven't
above half dozen loyal friends in all the
world.'
Jeremy Garble's jaw dropped and he
gazed open-mouthed at his daughter.
Its true, father, sure! Now you're
not silly enough to believe the German
Emperor AMI the President of France and
the Pope received you simply because
you were Jeremy Garble? Why, they
merely recognized your temporary pow
er. These statesmen, politicians, schem-
ers, pIotters and human various of all
sorts who make your life miserable and
our home headquarters for conspiracy,
seek you and fawn over you-ughi-to
use you."
"Why, Grace, this is infamousl,
sit surely is; but not as you mean it.n
she continued. strengthening up bit and
becoming more measured in her speech.
alt is infamous-infamous that one must
live the little life God gives him with the
very basest side of human nature forever
loathingly thrust in his face? Did you
ever count your real friends, father?''
He fidgeted and shook his head.
Let me count them for you.n Here
she began numbering them on the pretty
fingers of her left hand. She ran them
over but once. "Y es. that's right! There's
Uncle Dick Northup." Jeremy Garble
gave little start. There's Luke Rad
dles.'' Mr.. Garble pushed his chair back
petulantly from the table. There's dear
old father Mold.' The chair this time
took q crushing crunch along the tiling of
the floor. There's Mr.. Thurber-yes. /
think he may be counted as a genuine
friend. There's my Bob-Robert Mold.
you know"
Here Jeremy Garble rose to his feet as