while I was a frolicking lamb, but
after I got over the age of thinking myself a devil of a fellow things
began to grow tame. I was romantic, sentimental--wanted to fall in
love."

"Now you interest me," Whitney Barnes interjected, stiffening to
attention.

"Yes, I wanted to fall in love, Whitney, but I couldn't get it out of
my head that every girl I met had her eye on my fortune and not on me.
And if it wasn't the girl it was her mother, and mothers, that is
mothers-in-law-to-be or mothers-that-want-to-be-in-law or--what the
deuce do I mean?"

"I get you, Steve--they're awful. Go on."

"Well, I gave it up--the hunt for the right girl."

"The dickens you say! I wish you hadn't told me that."

"And I went in for art," Gladwin raced on, carried breathlessly on the
tide of his emotions and ignoring his friend's observations. "I went
in for these things on the walls, statuary, ceramics, rugs, and
tapestries."

"You've got a mighty fine collection," struck in Barnes.

"Yes, but I soon got tired of art--I still hungered for romance. I
went abroad to find it. I said to myself, 'If there's a real thrill
anywhere on this earth for a poor millionaire, I'll try and find
it--make a thorough search. It wasn't any use. Every country I went to
was the same. All I could find were things my money could buy and all
those things have long ceased to interest me. There was only once in
all the years I've been craving a romance"----

"Hold up there, Travers Gladwin, you're talking like Methusaleh.
You've been of age only a few years."

"Seems centuries, but as I started to say--there was only once. Two
years ago in a trolley car, right here in the midst of this heartless
city. Seated opposite me was a girl--a blonde--most beautiful hair you
ever saw. No use my trying to describe her eyes, clearest, bluest and
keep right on piling up the superlatives--peaches and cream complexion
with a transparent down on it, dimples and all that sort of thing. You
know the kind--a goddess every inch of her. Her clothes were poor and
I knew by that she was honest."

The young man paused and gazed rapturously into space.

"Go on; go on," urged Barnes. "Poor but honest."

"I caught her eye once and my heart thumped--could feel it beating
against my cigarette case."

"That's the real soul-mate stuff; go on!" cried Barnes.

"Well, she got off at one of the big shops. I followed. She went in
one of the employees' entrances. She worked there-