e stockbroker.
But she did not, she married John Capen Bangs, a thoroughly estimable
man, a scholar, author of two or three scholarly books which few read
and almost nobody bought, and librarian of the Acropolis, a library that
Bostonians and the book world know and revere.

The engagement came as a shock to the majority of "banking Cabots." John
Bangs was all right, but he was not in the least "financial." He was
respected and admired, but he was not the husband for Galusha Hancock
Cabot's daughter. She should have married a Kidder or a Higginson or
some one high in the world of gold and securities. But she did not, she
fell in love with John Bangs and she married him, and they were happy
together for a time--a time all too brief.

In the second year of their marriage a baby boy was born. His mother
named him, her admiring husband being quite convinced that whatever she
did was sure to be exactly the right thing. So, in order to keep up the
family tradition and honors--"He has a perfect Cabot head. You see it,
don't you, John dear"--she named him Galusha Cabot Bangs. And then, but
three years afterward, she died.

John Capen Bangs remained in Boston until his son was nine. Then his
health began to fail. Years of pawing and paring over old volumes amid
the dust and close air of book-lined rooms brought on a cough, a cough
which made physicians who heard it look grave. It was before the days
of Adirondack Mountain sanitariums. They told John Bangs to go South,
to Florida. He went there, leaving his son at school in Boston, but
the warm air and sunshine did not help the cough. Then they sent him to
Colorado, where the boy Galusha joined him. For five years he and the
boy lived in Colorado. Then John Capen Bangs died.

Dorothy Hancock Cabot had a sister, an older sister, Clarissa Peabody
Cabot. Clarissa did not marry a librarian as her sister did, nor did
she marry a financier, as was expected of her. This was not her fault
exactly; if the right financier had happened along and asked, it is
quite probable that he would have been accepted. He did not happen
along; in fact, no one happened along until Clarissa was in her thirties
and somewhat anxious. Then came Joshua Bute of Chicago, and when wooed
she accepted and married him. More than that, she went with him to
Chicago, where stood the great establishment which turned out "Bute's
Banner Brand Butterine" and "Bute's Banner Brand Leaf Lard" and "Bute's
Banner Brand Bac