New Ulm review., 1913-10-01
CHAPTER I.
husbands and Wife.

~ ROCK was breakfasting out of
doors in the cheerful little gar
den Of the Hotel Chatham The
sun streamed warmly upon the
concrete floor Of the court just beyond
tho row Of palms and oleanders that
fringed the rail against which his Her
aid rested, that he might read as he
ran, so to speak. He was the only per-
son having dejeuner on the terrace"
- he named 1t to the obsequious wait.
sr who always attended him. Charles
was the magnet that drew Brock to
the Chatham. that excellent French no.
eel with the excellent English name.
Charles was standing. alert but pen
sive, quite near at hand. ready to re
plenish the bowl with honey. Brock
was especially fond Of it. Brock
had gone to the Chatham for years just
because Charles was fixture there
Charles spoke the most execrably pic
turesque English. served with q puncti-
liousness that savored almost Of the
overbearing, and boasted that he had
acquired the art of making American
cocktails during FIVE weeks residence
in the United States.
Il was lazy morning. Brock was
happy. He was even interested when
q porter came forth and unraveled
long roll Of garden hose, with which
he abruptly began to splash water
upon the concrete surface of the court
without regard for distance or direc.
ton. Moreover. he proceeded to water
tho palms, operating from spot no
less than twenty feet away, until the
faithful Charles restored him to earth
By means Of certain subdued injunc'
tions and less moderate gesticulations,
from which it could be readily gather.
ed that "m'sieur was eating, not bath.
Ing" Whereupon the utterly uncrush.
ed porter splashed water at right an
gles, to Brooks relief. "M'sieur will
pardon the boy" apologized Charles In
deepest humility, taking much for
granted 1T will be very warm today.
Your serviette, m'sieur-it is damp
Pardon! He few away and back with
another napkin. "Of course, m'sieur.
the Chatham is not the Waldorf" he
announced deprecattngly. "Parbleu,"
beating himself on the forehead, II
forgot! M'sieur does not like the Wal
dorf. Eh. bien. Paris is not New York.
no." Having sufficiently humbled
Paris he withdrew into the back
ground. rubbing his hands as II he
were cleansing them of something un
slightly. Brock spread one of the but
tered biscuits with honey and inwardly
admitted that Paris was not New York
He was good looking chap Of thir.
II or thereabouts. an American to the
core, bright eyed. keen wftted, smooth
faced, virile. From boyhood's earliest.
days he had spent portion of his
summers in Europe. Two or three
years of his life had been employed in
the beaux arts. fruitful years. for
Brock had not wasted his opportuni-
hes- He had gone in for architecture
and building. Today he stood high
among the younger men in New York.
prosperous, successful and menace to
the old cry that son Of the rich can
not thrive in his fathers domain
Nowadays he came to the old world
for his breathing spells. He was able
30 combine wdling and development
without sacrificing one for the other
wherein lies the proof that his vaca.
lions were not akin to those taken by
most Of US.
The fortnight in Paris was to be
followed by a week In st. Petersburg
and brief tour of Sweden and Nor.
way His stay in the gay city was