Richmond planet. [volume] (Richmond, Va.) 1883-1938, 1899-11-25
CHAPTER I.

ter was raging in Brooklyn.
The wind howled and shrieked, and
drifting snow chung in crusts on the
windows. But the fire burned furious
" in John Olmstead's library, where
he sat in a comfortable armchair, his
slippered feet on the fender, supposed
TO be listening while his nephew, Rob- !
ert Stanton, read aloud to him.
The old man was called "crusty" at
large, and crusty he surely was He
stood well up among the wealthiest
men In Brooklyn, and, having been a
widower almost all his life, he had
become so thoroughly accustomed to
his own way that he had outlived even
the passing suggestion that there could
bv any possibility be any other way.
He was supposed to be listening. His
eyes were fixed in fierce, determined
stare upon the glowing Goals. His fore
head was furrowed. His right hand
wandered restlessly over his left arm
and shoulder, as though seeking the
seat of something that was out of or
der there.
He was supposed to be listening, but
he was not listening. His mind was
working back some two-and-twenty
years, on night very much like this
one. only later in the winter, when he
sat before the fire in that same library
and read a letter disclosing, to his hor-
ror, the fact that he had a two-year-oh
nephew.
'rl.,.,, II took crofher Jump backward,
indefinitely. and lie thought of the
mother of the boy, his only sister, Mary.
From childhood he had supported her;
bat when his beautiful young wife died
and he really needed a sister 10 help
him manage his grand home, Mary de-
lIberately deserted him to marry
farming fellow from away in some ro-
mantle, unknown obscurity--a fellow
whose only prospects lay in few mis-
cradle. mortgaged acres.
1t was made all the worse by the
fact that Mary had stubbornly refused
TO marry Thaddeus Braddon, j Ohm Ohm
stsad's best friend, who had been her
devoted lover from girlhood, who was
then in the west. coming a great for
tune, ready to return TO Brooklyn 20
live the moment Mary said the word.
John Olmstead remembered how he
had spoken his mind TO Mary, and how
the only effect it had was that never
or her husband till the letter that came
on that stormy night, % years before,
written vy the selectmen of the un-
known obscurity. announcing that his
sister had died two years and her hus-
band week before, leaving nothing
but debts and one male child. two years
old, named Robert Stanton. Ii noti
fed him that the child would be held
for limited period subject TO his or
der, and, in default, would be sdver
tised and manipulated as towns poor.
OF course the thing" as John Ohm
Stead called il, was brought to hi
Brooklyn mansion and properly cared
for, but he had conceived such a dis
like at the start that Robert Stanton
grew up and actually left for college
before the lack of him about the hous
opened his uncle's eyes to the fact tina
under his supposed dislike there hat
sprung up a great, unreasoning, I'm
bounded fondness for the boy.
From that moment there was moth
ing too good for his nephew, in tn
old mans estimation, and the hapPi
eat days he had known since his wifi
died were when Stanton came back
after graduating from the law schoo
settled down in the old home, an
Dpened an Office in New York.
The young lawyer was not a mode
done in wax, but a very fair result G
the conditions under which he had bee
developing. He was rugged, honest an
refined. He had not the remotest ide
OF the meaning of such words as sci
denial or self-sacrihce, or of such
quality as patience in suffering or az
Eersity.
The utter lack of feminine infiuenC
about the house left the genial and 81
cial side of his nature wholly und
veloped. He thought society a Dor
and society thought him cold an
proud. Unlimited financial resource
DVerburdened him with persisteI
friends till he easily fell into wa
OF holding every one at arms lengt
and constantly pushing, lest the
should come too near and annoy him.
He was generous because 1T Wi
agreeable. 1t relieved him of a surpll
that would otherwise have been bu
densome; it rid him, quickly and cas-
ly, of disagreeable things in the lii
of philanthropic tramps. Wholly u
whiting, he won for himself reput
ton for phenomenal hberality, whic
connected with his many confiictir
characteristics, produced the univers
conviction that he was sure to devel'
into prodigy of genius.
His habits were scrupulously circuI
spect, chiefly, no doubt, because al
others would have forced him, mo
OF less, into some sort of society; al
underneath it all were sound, natl
common sense and a rare adaptable
to his profession.
Thus far the only disagreeable pha
of life to which he had been oblig
to submit was his uncle's determiI
ZION that he should marry, which