The Bridgeport evening farmer., 1911-09-18
CHAPTER VII.
GROWTH IN GRACE.


 kCO after thirty years walking among his fellows Robert Me Io Adoo succumbed to that force
 which we call personal attrac- ton. The friendship, if such it could be called at the beginning, took it's tone from Bob rather than from the young lawyer, quiet and undemonstra- tive. With wisdom born of instinct rather than of deliberation the latter consistently subordinated himself to the older man. never seeking to op- pose his will. And, though the inti- macy became closer, always Bob must listen to habits vigorous protest against the change. It was not until Remington won his way to the legis- lature that the protest ceased to make itself heard.
 The friendship. as those who could observe closely at last came to recog- nize it to their utter mystiication, was good for McAdoo. Under it's in fiuence he warmed gradually. There was percepdbly less harshness in his |demeanor.
 The Finn home had for some years been in fine old house standing in quarter whence the tide of fashion had recently ebbed. Bob had bought it as speculation, but. finding no i'm mediate purchaser, had moved himself outward pride and inward perturba- tion of Patrick and Norah. One even- ing Paul Remington entered the house and was shown into the library, where Kathleen sat alone sewing.
 With her permission he lighted his pipe, and they sat silent before the fire for some time. He broke the si- fence abruptly.
 II saw her today"
 Not the lady of your dreams? And in the tiesh:"
 "The same! I was standing in the depot, waiting for a fellow who didn't come. Can you imagine more disgust ing place for romance? A lady drop ped her kerchief. With the prompt gallantry that is one of my charming traits, picked it up and returned it to her. 'Ah, thank you And she deigned to give me the hundredth part of a fraction of coldly indifferent glance, as though I were the cement beneath her feet. Then turned cold and stiff with fright and wonderment. It was she-as I had dreamed. her. stood, staring like a yokel. while she passed through the gate to her train. made a dash to follow her, to be met by blue arm with brass buttons and the prosaic demand, Show your ticket, please!' 'Ticketv I said. I've no ticket Can't pass through thenr Man. said, I must. I'm the presi- dent of this railroad. I'm the governor of the state. I'm the president of these glorious United States. It's a matter of life and death. I mustv Can't pass without ticket was all the concession received. I rushed to the ticket agents window. 'Ticketv demanded. Where to-? he said leisure ly. as though the solar system hadn't suddenly stood still. Where to? I don't know conf1ded to him. First stop on New York limited, suppose He handed me a few inches of paper, threw dewn a bill and. without wait ing for change. rushed out to the gate man. waving my ticket frantically. Now will you let me pass?' I cried. Nope he answered tranquilly. Train just pulling out It was true! I sat down on truck and spent fifteen minutes inventi1ig new ways of ex- pressing profound black despair. And such," be cried, striking tragic arr1. tude, "is the baleful effect of modern invention upon romance. Weep with me..'
 "Paul!" Kathleen exclaimed, star tied. You let your imagination carry you away. Come back to earth. She may be the very opposite of all you imagine her."
 Gro Be Continued.)