room to welcome his only and much beloved brother.

The glad voices of the two brothers in greeting reached their ears, and
a moment after the door was thrown open again, and Mr. Clarence entered,
conducting Mr. and Mrs. Fabian Rockharrt.

As soon as they found themselves alone, the two brothers took convenient
seats to have a talk.

"How goes on the works, Clarence?" inquired Mr. Fabian.

"Very prosperously. You will go through them to-morrow and see for
yourself."

"And how goes on the great scheme?"

"Even better than the works. Last reports shares selling at one hundred
and thirty."

"Same over yonder. When I left Amsterdam shares selling like hot cakes
at a hundred and thirty-one seventenths. How is the governor?" inquired
Mr. Fabian.

"As flourishing as a successful financier and septuagenarian bridegroom
can be."

"Why!--what do you mean?"

"Haven't you heard the news?"

"What is it? You--you don't mean--"

"Has our father written nothing to you of a very important and utterly
unexpected act of his life?"

"No."

"I advised him to marry--"

"You! You! Fabian! You advised our father to do such an absurd thing at
his age?"

"I confess I don't see the absurdity of it," quietly replied the elder
brother.

"Oh, why did you counsel him to such an act?" inquired Mr. Clarence,
more in sorrow than in anger.

"Out of pure good nature. I was getting married myself and wanted
everybody to be as happy as I was myself, particularly my old father.
Now I wonder he did not write to me of his happiness; but perhaps he has
done so and the letter passed me on the sea. When did this marriage take
place?"

"On the last day of May."

"Whe-ew! Then there was ample time in which to have written the news to
me. And I have had at least half a dozen business letters since the date
of his marriage, in any of which he might have mentioned the occurrence
had he so chosen. The lady is no longer young. She must be forty-eight,
and she is handsome, cultured, dignified and of very high rank. A
queenly woman!"

"Do you know whom you are talking about, Fabian?"

"Mrs. Bloomingfield, the lady I recommended, whom father married."

"Oh, indeed; I thought you didn't know what you were talking about or
whom you were talking of," said Mr. Clarence.

"What do you mean by that?"

"Our father never accepted your recommendation; never proposed to the
handsome, high spirited Mrs. Bloomingfield."

"What!" exclaimed Mr. Fabi