The Connecticut labor press., 1919-12-20
CHAPTER XXIII.


 ney in the club window, though he was
 somewhat disturbed. Kinney had rep
 resented Georgie as new GeOrgie-
 at least in spOts-a GeOrgie who was
 proving that decent stuff had been hid
 in him in fact, Georgie who was do-
 ing rather a handsome thing in taking
 a risky job for the sake of his aunt,
 poor old silly Fanny Minafer! Eugene l didn't care what risks GeOTgie took, or 1 how much decent stuff he had in him i; nothing that GeOrgie would ever do in
 this world or the next could change
 Eugene MOrgan's feeling toward him.
 If Eugene had wished, he could cas- 1 fly have taken George out of the nitro l glycerin branch of the chemical works. Always interested in apparent impOs- | abilities of invention, Eugene had en- 1 cOuraged many experiments in such l grOpingS as those for the discovery of
 substitutes for gasoline and rubber;
 and, though his mood had withheld the
 information from Kinney, he had re-
 gently bought from the elder Akers substantial quantity of stock on the
 condition that the chemical company i should establish an experimental labO- ratory. He intended to buy more; ; Akers was anxious to please him; and l a word from Eugene would have placed George almost anywhere in the chemical works. The possibility just 1 edged itself into Eugene's mind; that is, he let it become part of his spercep- tiOns long enough for it to prove to him that it was actually a possibility. Then he half started with disgust that he should be even idly considering such a thing over his last cigar for the night, in his library. NO" And he threw the cigar into the empty fire place and went to bed.
 His bitterness for himself might have worn away, but never his bitter ness for Isabel. He took that thought to bed with him-and it was true that nothing George could do would ever change this bitterness of Eugene. Only Georges mother could have changed it.
 And as Eugene fell asleep that night, thinking thus bitterly of Georgie, Georgie in the hospital was thinking of Eugene. He thought of Flu gene Morgan and of the Major; they seemed to be the same person for awhile, but he managed to disentangle them and even to understand why he had confused them. Long ago his grandfather had been the most strik- ing figure of success in the town: "As rich as Major Anderson !" they used to say. Now 1t was Eugene. "If I had Eugene Morgan's money" he would hear the workmen day-dreaming at the chemical works; or, If Eugene Mor- gan had hold of this place you'd see things hum !" And the boarders at the table d'hote spoke of "the Morgan Place" as an eighteenth-century Frenchman spoke of Versailles. Like his uncle, George had perceived that the Morgan Place. was the new Am person mansion. His reverie went back to the palatial days of the mansion, in his boyhood, when he would gallop his pony up the driveway and order the darkey stablemen about, while they whooped and obeyed, and his grandfa- ther, observing from a window, would laugh and call out to him: That's right, Georgie. Make those lazy ras- calls tump!" He remembered his gay young uncles, and how the town was eager concerning everything about them, and about himself. What clean, pretty town 1t had been! And in his reverie he saw like a pageant before him the magnifcence of the Amber sOns-its passing, and the passing of the Ambersons themselves. They had been slowly engulfed without knowing how to prevent it, and almost without knowing what was happening to them. 1 The family lot, in the shabby old quar- ter, out at the cemetery, held most of them now; and the name was swept altogether from the new city. The Ambersons had passed, and the new people would pass, and the new people that came after them, and the next new ones, and the next-and the next
 He had begun to murmur, and the man on duty as night nurse for the ward came and bent over him.
 Did you want sOmething?"
 "There's nothing in this family busi- ness," George told him confidentially. "Even George Washington is only
 something in a book.''
 Eugene read report of the accident in the next mornings paper. He was
 on the train, having just left for New York, on business, and with less leis-
 ure would probably have overlooked l the obscure item:
 LEGS BROKEN.
 i G. A. Minafer, an employee of the Ak 1 CTS Chemical company, was run down by an automobile yesterday at the corner of l Tennessee and Main and had both legs 1 broken Minafer was to blame for the accident, according to PatrOlman F. A. 1 Kax, who witnessed the affair. The auto mobile was small one driven by Herbert l Cottleman of 2173 Noble avenue, who stat | ed that he was making less than four 1 miles an hour. Minafer is said to belong l to a family formerly of considerable prom l thence in the city. He was taken to the | City hospital, where physicians stated 1 later that he was suffering from internal i injuries besides the fracture of his legs, but might recover
 Eugene read the item twice, then
 tossed the paper upon the opposite seat
 of his compartment, and sat looking
 out of the window. His feeling toward l GeOrgie was changed not jOt by his 1 human pity for GeOrgtes human pain l and injury. He thought of Georgie's toll o15 oro cpf111 fC1lro and I,o Chi1--