Keowee courier. [volume] (Pickens Court House, S.C.) 1849-current, 1912-12-23

post had just delivered, his friend,
Harry Newlands, allowed his eyes to
stray around the apartment, now fra
grant with the aroma of his hosts
excellent after-dinner cigars. 1t was
not the first time Harry had spent
an evening in the library OF his
friends house, and his eyes encount-
cred nothing unfamiliar. Yet, some
now, tonight his host seemed more
than ever out of place amid all the
costly cosiness and elegant luxury. 1t
was not, however, Steel's ill-ftting
tweed garments, keen, gloomy count
enance and hard, sinewy hands that
suggested to the younger man a
dingy draughtsman' office or a
grimy building athrob with the clank
and clatter and whirr Of machinery.
Newlands had long associated his
friend with these places, and now
it was only in the natural course Of
things that the successful inventor
should have purchased for himself
home in keeping with his great
income. Rather was 1T the curious
chilliness Of manner and bitterness
OF speech that had been in evidence
lessly served repast. Gilbert Steel
who was now nearer forty than thir-
ty, had never been what one could
call an amiablc man, but the chilli
uess and bitterness he had always
succeeded in keeping from Newlands,
except possibly during a particularly
desperate period in his struggle for
success.
Harry, whose warmth Of heart and
generous instincts were likely to pre-
clude any important success--in the
commercial sense Of the term, at
least-was wondering rather sadly
what these wintry signs might por-
tend, when Gilbert tossed the letters
upon a table with the muttered syl-
liable, "Trash!"
"More invitations, Gilbert?"
"Same thing" Steel gave short
laugh.
"By this time" said the guest. ig-
noring the others ill-humor, "you
must be we'll booked up for Christ
mastide."
81 am not accepting invitations for
Christmastide."
Harry checked question, and
helped himself to cigarette. Gill
bert pitched the end of a cigar into
the fire.
Can you tell me why all those
people are inviting mo to dinners
and dances?"
The other paused in the act of
striking a match. "Why, because
they want you at their dinners and
dances"
"Rot!'
Harry regarded his friend with
resentment. "ls there anything the
last.
Gilbert waved the inquiry aside.
"l'll ask you another question:" he
said. ''Why didn't they invite me
Stei Gnu a. 5oou manly Jcdl Dc-
fore that?"
"Oh, we'll" Harry hestitated, be-
ginning to understand. He laughed,
not quite easily. "You must remem-
ber you've become famous man,
Gilbert"
Rot, again! I've made a bit of
money-thats all. And that's also
the answer to my first question:
"Oh! l shouldn't say that" remon..
strated the other.
What would you say? Those peo-
pie knew me as well ten years ago
as they do to-day--better, indeed.
This was sneer. GAS you know,
I've had no time for making new
friends. But the old friends care
fully dropped me when they saw me,
ing an ass Of myself in my own way,
instead Of sticking to my rich uncle s
sOft-goods business. They were per-
fectly entitled to do so, Of course. -
"But might they not say that You
dropped them?"
"Certainly-as soon as saw their
superior contempt for my self-im-
posed poverty And now they are
requesting the pleasure. etcetera. It's
pretty g-contcmptible."
Harry found it difficult to reply.
anyway, | wouldn't let the thing
embittcr me-" he venturcd. And you
might, perhaps. put some, at least,
Of the invitations down to the Christ