"He has ability as a writer," said the Captain; "but in such a mattah
anybody but a fool ought to see that the thing to do is to chahge the
intrenchments. I trust that I may not be misunde'stood when I say that,
in my opinion, a good rattling chahge would not be a fo'lo'n hope!"

"It bothers," said Jim; "and if it weren't for that, I'd feel
conscience-stricken at doing anything to rob the idiot of a most
delicious grief."

The coolness of early autumn was in the air the night of Jim's
house-warming. To describe his dwelling, in these days when fortunes are
spent on the details of a stairway, and a king's ransom for the
tapestries of a salon, all of which luxuries are spread before the eyes
of the public in the columns of Sunday papers and magazines, would be to
court an anticlimax. But this was before the multimillionaire had made
the need for an augmentative of the word "luxury"; and Jim's house was
noteworthy for its beauty: its cunningly wrought iron and wood; and
columned halls and stairways; and wide-throated fireplaces, each a
picture in tile, wood, and metalwork; and vistas like little fairylands
through silken portieres; and carven chairs and couches, reminiscent of
royal palaces; and chambers where lovely color-schemes were worked out
in rug, and bed, and canopy. There were decorations made by men whose
names were known in London and Paris. From out-of-the-way places Mr.
Elkins had brought collections of queer and interesting and pretty
things which, all his life, he had been accumulating; and in his library
were broad areas of well-worn book-backs. Somehow, people looked upon
the Mr. Elkins who was master of all these as a more important man than
the Elkins who had blown into the town on some chance breeze of
speculation, and taken rooms at the Centropolis.

It was all light and color, that night. Even the formal flower-beds of
the grounds and the fountain spouting on the lawn were like scenery in
the lime-light. Only, back in the shrubbery there were darker nooks in
summer-houses and arbors for those who loved darkness rather than light,
because their deeds, to the common mind, were likely to seem foolish. I
remember thinking that if Mr. Giddings really wanted a chance to take
the high dive of which he had spoken to me, the opportunity was before
him.

His Laura was there, her devotee-like expression striving with an
exceedingly low-cut dress to sound the distinguishing note of her
personality. Giddings