been selling September wheat for him
all last week, and only this morning they closed out another
scheme--some corn game. It was all over the Floor just about closing
time. They tell me that Curtis landed between eight and ten thousand.
Always seems to win. I'd give a lot to keep him out of it; but since
his deal in May wheat he's been getting into it more and more."

"Did he sell that property on Washington Street?" she inquired.

"Oh," exclaimed her husband, "I'd forgot. I meant to tell you. No, he
didn't sell it. But he did better. He wouldn't sell, and those
department store people took a lease. Guess what they pay him. Three
hundred thousand a year. 'J.' is getting richer all the time, and why
he can't be satisfied with his own business instead of monkeying 'round
La Salle Street is a mystery to me."

But, as Mrs. Cressler was about to reply, Laura came to the open window
of the parlour.

"Oh, Mrs. Cressler," she called, "I don't seem to find your 'Idylls'
after all. I thought they were in the little book-case."

"Wait. I'll find them for you," exclaimed Mrs. Cressler.

"Would you mind?" answered Laura, as Mrs. Cressler rose.

Inside, the gas had not been lighted. The library was dark and cool,
and when Mrs. Cressler had found the book for Laura the girl pleaded a
headache as an excuse for remaining within. The two sat down by the
raised sash of a window at the side of the house, that overlooked the
"side yard," where the morning-glories and nasturtiums were in full
bloom.

"The house is cooler, isn't it?" observed Mrs. Cressler.

Laura settled herself in her wicker chair, and with a gesture that of
late had become habitual with her pushed her heavy coils of hair to one
side and patted them softly to place.

"It is getting warmer, I do believe," she said, rather listlessly. "I
understand it is to be a very hot summer." Then she added, "I'm to be
married in July, Mrs. Cressler."

Mrs. Cressler gasped, and sitting bolt upright stared for one
breathless instant at Laura's face, dimly visible in the darkness.
Then, stupefied, she managed to vociferate:

"What! Laura! Married? My darling girl!"

"Yes," answered Laura calmly. "In July--or maybe sooner."

"Why, I thought you had rejected Mr. Corthell. I thought that's why he
went away."

"Went away? He never went away. I mean it's not Mr. Corthell. It's Mr.
Jadwin."

"Thank God!" declared Mrs. Cressler fervently, and with the words
kissed Laura on bo