The midland journal. (Rising Sun, Md.) 1885-1947, 1899-11-03

tensely disagreeable. The fact that his
uncle, being dead, was yet speaking,
only held him the more firmly in in
stinctive resistance, and where John
Olmstead's arguments failed there was
little hope that the rest of the world
could succeed. The only result was
that Stanton shrank more and more
from society, and delved deeper and
more earnestly in his profession.
1t was an excellent thing for his
progress at the bar, and he really began
to develop into what everyone had pre-
dicted-something of prodigy.
Straightway it began to be commonly
acknowledged that he was one of the
shrewdest cross-examiners in the state.
1t only tended, however, to make So
ciety more charitable with his eccen-
tricities and more relentlessly adoring.
A weak man would have yielded at
once; strong man never. Stanton was
neither. He had clements of strength,
but he was not strong.
After five years of it he said to him
self: II believe that the only way to
make life worth living is to have
wife to attend to the social side.
There's no sense in a social side, any
way. What does it amount to? But
it is, and apparently it is something
that always will be. I can't attend
to it. But I'm always expected to, and
evidently I've either to keep on making
excuses or making myself miserable,
all my life, or else to find wife who
will attend to it for me-"
Obviously he had not the faintest
conception of what the agony was all
about, nor had his uncles will any
thing whatever to do with his consid-
erations. They were carried on upon
lines of pure and unadulterated in
stinct-just as young duck pol1es it's
fiat bill about in a stupid search for
the delicious mud which it has never
seen nor heard of, except in the sweet
babble of some soft nursery clucking
over its pipped egg.
81 wonder how the thing should be
brought about" Stanton muttered, as
he lay on the sofa in the library, smok
ing and dreaming.
low did not dream that he was doing
precisely what everyone was bent on
having him do; if he had, he would
not have done it. In fact, he never
even fully realized how the thing was
done, it was so quickly and easily ac-
complished when once he turned his
attention that way. But that was i'm
io1 \ IL
questionably became engaged, and it
was great relief to him to know and
to have others know that so much prog
ress at least had been made towards
the relief from society which he sought.
The really strange thing about it
was that it was a love-match. At least
the Lombards all said so, and every one
admitted that they were the last peo-
pie in the world to be influenced by
any mans millions-which proved to
be the case. little later.
The immediate effects of the engage
ment were not in precise line with the
final results he sought, but he reasoned
with himself: II suppose it's fellows
duty to the lady he's to marry to go
with her into society, just as it's his
duty to stay with her at home after
they're married." so the poor, deluded
fellow honestly, earnestly and patient
ly plunged into grand whirl of So
cial life at Miss Lombard's side, only
longing to have the transition state
over with, that he might arrive at the
stage where he could be let alone.
Stanton had hardly adjusted himself
to this when another disagreeable fea-
ture presented itself. Young Lombard,
his future brother-in-law, was client
of his whom he had always consid-
cred an ideal business man; but it sud-
denly appeared that he was also an
ideal society man. 1t was simply
side of him with which Stanton had
never CHANGED to come in contact. He
insisted upon putting him up at two
fashionable clubs.
''I'm already a member of the pro-
fessional club over in the city," he
said. THAT has some point to it. But
what's the sense of a social club?"
ats good place to meet the fel-
lows and kill an hour or two of an even
ing now and them" Lombard urged.
"But 1 haven't time enough as it is,
without killing any," Stanton objected.
Still, he allowed himself to be put up.
There was really no help for it; it
occurred to him, too, that there was
certain underlined duty which fellow
owed to the brother of lady he was
about to marry; and Lombard took it
upon himself to see that, after he was
once well inside, he was not allowed
to become dead letter.
ITS astonishing what difference it
makes with fellow whether it's bust
ness or society he's at" Stanton re-
flected, as he watched young Lombard
at the clubs. "He has wonderful IA
cility in adjusting himself and per-
meating everything. L haven't bit
of it. But it's something man ought |
to have, 1 suppose, especially if he is
about to be married. If could only
be let alone, should rather like to drop
in here occasionally and look on.
might pick up some of that facility my
self, in time"
The thing which he abhorred most |
intensely and received most abundant
ly was fattery. Next to that he dis
liked being questioned. 1t is often the |