The times dispatch. [volume] (Richmond, Va.) 1903-1914, 1907-03-03

wise in his. task Of bread winning; even
then he had worked with a vague, half
formed hope OF Anicc Lanier sharing
his final victory.
Then had come her own financial
reverses, her fathers death, and her
withdrawal from the world that had
known them both. Since that time
circumstances had checked their grow
ing intimacy. 1t was pleasant to STAN
dish to feel that mat intimacy ana
understanding We're now renewed al
most just where they had left Off.
His battle for livelihood and success
had beaten from him much OF the buoy
ancy that had once been his charm.
Anice seemed the one link connect
ing him with Youth-the link where
by he might one day win his way back
to that dear lost country of his boyish
hopes and dreams. IT would be good
to forget, with her, the dreary up
hill struggle that was SO bitter and
youth sapping when endured alone.
Then he laughed grimly at his own
silly fantasy, and came back to every
day self-control
.,s,uu,his rect and followed the genera
drift toward the enormous ballroom IN +
the rear OF the mansion that hadF1or
4 the occasion been converted into a Dali 5
Duet hall.
ON the. way he encountered long,
lean, pasty-faced young man who hall-
ed him with weary: J..
"Hello. Standish! Didn't expect to
see you here. Beastly bore, isn't u
And the Governor dragged me all the
,yay from New York to show up at II:
.sYou spend most of your time IN
New York nowadays don't you, Jerry
said Give. -
5"Say, old chap" protested young Con.
over. "cut out the Jerry can't you.
NV Christian names Gerald Jerry
was all right enough when was q
nrOytnCi1I mole.
But it would swamp man OF my
standing in New York.
Give had fair idea of the stand.
ing" in question. A half-bake ed lad,
turned out of Harvard after two years
OF futile loafing, sent on trip arounu
the world Chat eliminated In a de-
l,phtfully ls9sspent year in Paris), at
last coming home with a we'll ground
cd contempt for his native city, and
turned loose at his own request on
lonE-suffering New York, with more
money than belonged to him ana 1e ,ns. =.
brasAs than sufficed to keep IT. rms
in nutshell was the history-so far
as the world at large knew--ofa Caleu
Conover's only son.
from time to time newspaper &C
counts OF beaten cabmen, suppers tha'
ended in police stations, and simila'
had floated to Granite. Yet Caleb Con:
over. otherwise so rigid in the matter
of appearances. read such accounts
with relish, and boosted loudly Of tn
swath his son was cutting IN eiotnal'
society. For, on Gerald's word, Con
over was firmly assured that this wa
the true career Of a young man
fashion. It represented all he ma
missed in his own poverty-h ghtin
early manhood, and he rel iced In nj
sons good times. 3
Getting rid OF Gerald3as soonSas h
decently might. standish made his wa
to the supper-room Alta hundred "a
hles sat more or less bored guest
Walters swirled wildly to and fro. !
4 balcony above blared an orchestr
A. the doors and in fringe about tf
edges Of the room We're grouped u
Conover political and business hanger
on. The place was hot to suffocatle
and heavy withthe scent of howers.s
suddenly through the volume
looser sound came q succession i
shnrp raps. The orchestra stomp
short. Tho guests ceased speakin
and craned their necks
At the far end of the room, und
n gaudy floral piece, man had ris
to his feet
"speech!" yelled Shevlin. enthusla
tically, from n doorway. Then ma
aware of his breach of etiquette by
swift but awful glance from his, CHI,
he wilted behind a palm.
;e But Shevlin had read the sic
Alright