slowly. It seemed hard to understand; for after a pause he read
it over a third time. Then he looked straight before him for a moment,
and then slowly tore it up into thin shreds and crumpled them up in
his hand. Ten minutes later he rose from his seat and dropped the torn
pieces into the fireplace. He walked over and put on his hat and coat,
and going out, pulled the door firmly to behind him. The trunk, partly
packed, stood open with the half-folded coat hanging over its edge and
with the roses lying by its side.

Floyd walked into the Club and, returning quietly the salutations of
a group of friends, went over to a rack and drew out a newspaper file,
with which he passed into another room.

"Announcement of Engagement: Router and Dangerlie," was the heading on
which his eye rested. "It is stated," ran the paragraph, "that they have
been engaged some time, but no announcement has been made until now, on
the eve of the wedding, owing to the young lady's delicacy of feeling."

That night Henry Floyd wrote a letter. This was the close of it:

"Possibly your recollection may hereafter trouble you. I wish to say
that I do not hold you accountable in any way."

That night a wretched creature, half beggar, half worse, was standing on
the street under a lamp. A man came along. She glanced at him timidly.
He was looking at her, but it would not do to speak to him, he was a
gentleman going somewhere. His hands were full of roses. He posted a
letter in the box, then to her astonishment he stopped at her side and
spoke to her.

"Here are some roses for you," he said, "and here is some money. Go home
to-night."

He pushed the roses and money into her hands, and turning, went back up
the dim street.

HOW THE CAPTAIN MADE CHRISTMAS

It was just a few days before Christmas, and the men around the large
fireplace at the club had, not unnaturally, fallen to talking of
Christmas. They were all men in the prime of life, and all or nearly all
of them were from other parts of the country; men who had come to the
great city to make their way in life, and who had, on the whole, made
it in one degree or another, achieving sufficient success in different
fields to allow of all being called successful men. Yet, as the
conversation had proceeded, it had taken a reminiscent turn. When it
began, only three persons were engaged in it, two of whom, McPheeters
and Lesponts, were in lounging-chairs, with their feet stretched out
to