t night by this same Marian, the casual mention of whose
name even now caused him to forget his age and position and the dignity
demanded in a bachelor of forty-five.

The cloud of fragrant smoke concealed the fact that the long white glove
was empty now; the flickering light made golden the words of the brief
note which thanked him for the evening which his escort had made so
wonderful a memory in a young girl's heart; the faded flowers were
things of color and fragrance, more sweetly redolent because they had
risen and fallen with her breath of life; the pink ribbon seemed to have
a dance-card at one end and to be tied to a graceful wrist at the other;
and the slipper--yes, the slipper--the dreamer smiled as he recalled the
fleeting figure which flew up the brownstone steps behind her chaperon
when he had last seen her, in playful fearfulness because he had managed
to whisper in her ear that she was the sweetest, dearest, most
bewitching maiden he had ever seen. The slipper had dropped off, and
remained in his possession by right of capture since the owner would not
come outside the door to claim her own.

He had intended to make this selfsame slipper the excuse for following
up what he was convinced was the romance of his life; but Marian Seymour
had already returned home to New York when he called three days later.
This was a disappointment, still at that moment it seemed but a
postponement after all, for he was sailing for Europe a fortnight hence
and could easily reach New York a day or two earlier than he had
planned. Thus far the idea was capital; but when the second call was
paid, with the pink slipper safely reposing in his pocket, he found that
the dainty foot to which the slipper belonged had stepped upon an ocean
steamer which sailed the day before.

Even this second misadventure failed to dampen his ardor. Good fortune
had arranged for him to follow in her direction, and surely, when once
upon the same continent, the slipper would be a lodestone of sufficient
potency to draw together two souls such as theirs. Yet he returned six
months later without having had the expected happen, and soon after
landing he learned of her engagement to a Mr. Thatcher.

There is a certain gratification which comes to the experienced man of
the world of twenty-two when he finds himself a martyr; and Monty
Huntington enjoyed this gratification to the utmost. He was
conscientious in believing himself to be wretchedly unhappy