lor-made, had never been on a horse
in her life--and was now perhaps too old to make a good beginning.

After a little while Althea was carried away for her "entry" or "event,"
or whatever they properly call it--for I am no sportsman. Some small
section of the crowd interested itself about the same time--at least got
between us and the proceedings. We saw little or nothing--just heads,
hats and parasols. All I know is that, in a few moments, Althea
reappeared--I think she had leaped something. Her father was by her
side, vastly proud and happy. Her mother (as I shall say for short)
arrived from somewhere, with a gratified smile. Her big brother
presently drew up alongside on a polo-pony, and gave her a big,
flat-handed pat in the middle of her placard, and a handsome young
woman, who was pointed out to us as the wife he had married in February,
during our fortnight at Miami, reached up to her bridle-hand and gave it
a squeeze. And there was a deep fringe of miscellaneous friends,
acquaintances and rivals.

"What do you think of our daughter, now!" asked Johnny, loudly and
generally, as he lifted Althea down. He looked about as if to sweep
together the widest assemblage of praises and applause. Many flocked;
many congratulated; but still further tribute must be levied. McComas
caught sight of Albert. The young fellow stood on the edge of the thing,
staring, embarrassed, shaken to his centre.

"Here, you, Albert!" Johnny cried; "come over and shake hands with the
winner!"

And meanwhile, Raymond, off by himself somewhere or other, I suppose,
may have been studying how in the world he was ever going to put Albert
through Yale.

VI

Business once more!

It ought to be barred. I get enough of it in my daily routine without
having it intrude here. Business should do no more than provide the
platform and the scenic background for the display of young love, hope
and beauty. But here we have to deal with the affairs of a worried and
incompetent man half way through his fifties.

Raymond came in one morning, on my summons. His manner was depressed; it
was becoming habitually so. I tried to cheer him with indifferent
topics,--among them the horse-show, which I saw so unsatisfactorily and
which I have described so inadequately. He had already heard about it
from Albert, and he felt no relish for the friendliness Johnny McComas
had displayed on that occasion.

"Trying to get _him_, too?" was Raymond's comment.

"Oh,