allen
through. Besides, shares are at fifteen pounds."

Philip, having in his possession a second-class ticket and a five-pound
note, was indifferent to that, and said so.

"I don't care what they are," he shouted. "The combine is already signed
and sealed, and no one knows it but myself. In an hour everybody will
know it!"

"What makes you think you know it?" demanded the broker.

"I've seen the house-flags!" cried Philip. "I have--do as I tell you,"
he commanded.

There was a distracting delay.

"No matter who's back of you," objected Maddox, "it's a big order on a
gamble."

"It's not a gamble," cried Philip. "It's an accomplished fact. I'm at
the Ritz. Call me up there. Start buying now, and, when you've got a
thousand of each, stop!"

Philip was much too agitated to go far from the telephone booth; so for
half an hour he sat in the reading-room, forcing himself to read the
illustrated papers. When he found he had read the same advertisement
five times, he returned to the telephone. The telephone boy met him
half-way with a message.

"Have secured for you a thousand shares of each," he read, "at fifteen.
Maddox."

Like a man awakening from a nightmare, Philip tried to separate
the horror of the situation from the cold fact. The cold fact was
sufficiently horrible. It was that, without a penny to pay for them,
he had bought shares in three steamship lines, which shares, added
together, were worth two hundred and twenty five thousand dollars.
He returned down the corridor toward the lounge. Trembling at his own
audacity, he was in a state of almost complete panic, when that happened
which made his outrageous speculation of little consequence. It was
drawing near to half-past one; and, in the persons of several smart men
and beautiful ladies, the component parts of different luncheon parties
were beginning to assemble.

Of the luncheon to which Lady Woodcote had invited him, only one
guest had arrived; but, so far as Philip was concerned, that one was
sufficient. It was Helen herself, seated alone, with her eyes fixed
on the doors opening from Piccadilly. Philip, his heart singing with
appeals, blessings, and adoration, ran toward her. Her profile was
toward him, and she could not see him; but he could see her. And he
noted that, as though seeking some one, her eyes were turned searchingly
upon each young man as he entered and moved from one to another of those
already in the lounge. Her expression was e