erved
on the governor's staff for seven weeks, ranking as colonel, so now all
his friends, even his family, spoke of him as "the Colonel." It was well,
as it pleased his vanity.
The coachmen's whips left their sockets, and coupe and carriage dashed
along 42nd Street and down Fifth Avenue. The ten minutes' drive passed as
a dream to some in the carriage. Mrs. Harris's mind revelled in the
intricate warfare of society. She had often been in New York, and in
the summers was seen at the most fashionable watering places with her
children. Her mind was burdened trying to discover the steps that lead to
the metropolitan and international "four hundred." She was determined
that her children should marry into well regulated families, and that the
colonel should have a national reputation. So absorbed was she that her
eyes saw not, neither did her ears hear what transpired in the carriage.
Gertrude was equally quiet; her thoughts were of dear friends she had
left in Harrisville. The occupants of the front seats had talked in low
tones of recent society events in New York, and a little of art. Lucille
herself had dabbled in color for a term or two in a fashionable school on
the Back Bay in Boston.
The colonel had become enthusiastic in his talk about his own recent
business prosperity. Suddenly coupe and carriage stopped in front of the
main entrance of the Hotel Waldorf. How fine the detail of arch and
columns! How delicate the architect's touch of iron and glass in the
porte-cochere!
The Harris family stepped quickly into the public reception-room to the
left of the main entrance adjoining the office, leaving Jean and the
porter to bring the hand-baggage. The decorated ceiling framed a central
group of brilliant incandescent lights with globes. Leo directed
attention to the paintings on the walls, and furniture and rugs.
The colonel excused himself and passed out and into the main offices. The
sight about him was an inspiring one. The architect's wand had wrought
grace and beauty in floor, ceiling, column, and wall. Gentlemen, old and
young, were coming and going. Professional men, not a few, bankers and
business men jostled each other. Before the colonel had reached the
clerk's desk, he had apologized, twice at least, for his haste. The fact
was that metropolitan activity delighted his heart, but it disturbed just
a little his usual good behavior. Nervously, he wrote in the Waldorf
register plain Reuben Harris, wife and
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