at
Perry finds her rather dull. He complains that she doesn't talk like a
book, which is a trifle odd when you consider that he has never read
one."

"What I like about her is that she's different," said Kemper. "She is,
isn't she?"

"Different from other people? Yes, I dare say she is, but all the Wildes
are that, you know. She comes of an eccentric stock. Did you ever happen
to meet her aunt, Mrs. Payne?"

Kemper nodded as he leaned forward to make a division in the centre of
the intervening carnations, "The old lady who looks like a chorus girl
in her dotage? Yes, I've had the pleasure and I found her decidedly
better than she looked. Her husband, by the way, is a great old chap,
isn't he? He held the biggest share in iron last spring and I guess he
has made a pretty figure."

"He's a philosopher who got into the stock market by mistake," observed
Adams. "I believe he would have been perfectly happy if he could have
owned a single farm, a cow or two and a pair of horses to his plough,
but he's condemned to bear the uncongenial weight of millions, and I
hear that he has even to give his charities in secret. I never look at
him that I don't think of Marcus Aurelius oppressed by the burden of the
whole Roman Empire."

Kemper was peeling a pear, which he had taken from a dish upon the
table, and he laid down his knife for a moment to push aside his cup of
coffee.

"Has he any children?" he asked abruptly.

"Two--both sons and gay young birds, I'm told."

"Then Miss Wilde will hardly come in for a share of the burden?"

"Hardly. The sons will probably dissipate a good half of it before it
reaches them."

"It's a pity," said Kemper thoughtfully; and having finished his pear,
he dipped his fingers in his finger bowl, moistened his short moustache,
and turned to take a cigar from the little silver tray which Wilkins
held before him. "Do you know I can't imagine a greater happiness than
the quick accumulation of wealth," he observed in his hearty voice.

Adams laughed aloud with a merriment that was almost boyish. "Well, I
dare say you come in for your part of it," he returned, while he
flicked the ashes from his cigar.

"I?" Kemper shook his head without a smile. "Oh, I accumulate nothing
except habits. I make and I spend--I win and I lose--and on my word I'm
no richer to-day than I was ten years ago. I've made a fortune in a
day," he added regretfully, "to lose it in an hour."

A glow had sprung to his fac