e Wizard of Wall
Street;" but turn to the domestic side of the man, think of his undying
love for, his unbroken loyalty and devotion to, the wife of his choice,
who, as mother of his little flock, never ceased to be his sweetheart.

Is it so improbable, then, that his heart, made tender by love for one
dear woman, sheltered and protected, might feel a throb of pity for
another woman, unsheltered and alone, whose poverty he saw would be a
cruel stumbling-block in her narrow path? I think not.

Who that "she" was whose aid he would have asked in my behalf I do not
know, can never know; but it always gives me an almost childish pleasure
to imagine it was the sweet, strong woman who was his wife. At all
events, Mr. Gould that night furnished me with a pleasant memory, and
that is a thing to be thankful for.

The first time I saw Mr. Fisk in the green-room he was surrounded by a
smiling, animated party, and as he advanced a step, expectantly, I
disappeared. I have been told that he laughed at his own disappointment
and the suddenness of some claim upon my attention. The second time, I
was in the room when he entered, and at my swift departure he reddened
visibly, and, after a moment, said: "If you were not all such good
friends of mine, I should think someone had been making a bugaboo of me
to scare that young woman."

"Oh," laughed one of the men, "she's from the West and is a bit wild
yet."

"Well," he replied, "it doesn't matter where she's from, New York's got
her now and means to keep her. I'd like to offer her a word of welcome
and congratulation, but she won't give a chap any margin," and he resumed
his conversation.

The third time, he was alone in the room, and as I backed hastily out he
followed me. I ran--so did he--but as that was too ridiculous I stopped
at his call and, turning, faced him. He removed his hat and hurriedly
said: "I beg your pardon for forcing myself upon your attention, Miss
Morris, but any man with a grain of self-respect would demand an
explanation of such treatment as I have received from you. Come now, you
are a brave girl, an honest girl--tell me, please, why you avoid me as if
I were the plague. Why, good Lord! your eyes are all but jumping out of
your head! Are you afraid even to be seen listening to me?" Suddenly he
stopped, his own words had given him an idea. His eyes snapped angrily.
"Well, I'll be blessed!" he exclaimed; then he came closer. He took my
hand and asked: "Miss Mo