t was a brutal way of putting it, but the
banker had a brutal way of putting things. Generally he confounded the
person before him with the business discussed, venting upon him all
his displeasure.

"To try and have her receive Philip Colton, or at least to get her
reason for not doing so. It may be that it is due to your own
objection; if so I should like to talk the matter over with you."

"You are quite right, sir; I do object--object in the strongest
manner. I don't wish him here. I've had all I want of Mr. Colton, and
so has my daughter."

"May I ask why?"

"I don't know that it is necessary for me to discuss it with you, Mr.
Gregg."

"I am his closest friend, and have known him ever since he was five
years old."

"Then I positively decline to discuss it with you, sir, for I should
certainly say something that would wound your feelings. It is purely a
matter of business, and that you artists never understand. If you will
excuse me I will return to Mrs. Eggleston; she is an invalid, as you
have no doubt heard, and I spend the morning hour with her. I must ask
you to excuse me, sir."

* * * * *

On his return to his studio Gregg began to pace the floor, his habit
when anything worried him. Phil was to return at three o'clock and he
had nothing but bad news for him. That his visit had only made matters
worse was too evident. Never in all his life had he been treated with
such discourtesy. Eggleston was a vulgarian and a brute, but he was
Madeleine's father, and he could not encourage her to defy him. He, of
course, wanted these two young people to meet, but not in any
clandestine way. Her father, no doubt, would soon see things
differently, for success was the foot-rule by which he measured a
man, and Phil, with his energy and honesty, would gain this in time.
Phil must wait. Everything would come right once the boy got on his
legs again. The failure had in every way been an honest one. In this
connection he recalled the remark of a visitor who had dropped into
the studio the day before and who in discussing the failure had said
in the crisp vernacular of the Street: "Bitten off more than they
could chew, but square as a brick." It was an expression new to him
but he had caught its meaning. That his fellow-brokers had this
opinion of Philip meant half the battle won. Men who by a lift of
their fingers lose or make fortunes in a din that drowns their voices,
and who never lie