has evolved an entirely novel
plan for working up a practice. At first I thought Williams was one of
these delightfully optimistic individuals, but subsequent events have
demonstrated there was more method in his madness.

Williams was in love with Miss Thornton. Everybody knew it, though, as
Parsons said, Miss Thornton didn't seem to know it by heart. The more
fool she, I thought, for Williams was a first-rate fellow and a far
better man than that doll-faced, shallow chit had any right to expect. I
admit it isn't very gallant to speak of a girl in this way, but I
sometimes think a little plain truth about the fair sex would make them
more fair. Miss Thornton had prettiness enough of a certain kind, she
wore her gowns well and looked the girl of good breeding that she was.
But beyond that--well, I never could see what made Williams so
desperately in love with her. Therefore when R. Castelez Forbes appeared
on the scene, though I sympathised with the discomforted swain, I could
not really feel very sorry for him.

Where R. Castelez Forbes came from was more or less of a mystery. Mrs.
Thornton told me she met him on the "Teutonic" and that he had been
"awfully kind" to Daisy and her during the passage. She had invited him
to spend a day or two in the Berkshires, and since then they had seen a
good deal of him. To my inquiry as to his business Mrs. Thornton replied
that he was "something in the manufacturing line" and she believed
"quite a rising young fellow." She was a hopelessly silly woman. Mr.
Thornton was an able man, but too easy going and good-natured to trouble
himself about the antecedents of Miss Daisy's callers.

It did not take much to frighten Williams off. He was sensitive as most
manly fellows are when in love. But had he possessed far more
self-confidence there was quite enough in the situation to have
discouraged him. Miss Thornton and Forbes were constantly together, and
although no engagement had been announced most people spoke of it as "an
understood thing."

Such was the situation when Meyer brought the East Broadway papers to
Williams and inquired his fee for searching the title.

Williams glanced at the contract of sale for a moment, turned to the
last deed in the Abstract and promptly named a figure so low that even
Meyer feared to ask for a reduction, although he did insist on the work
being finished in a week. The bargain was closed then and there, and
everybody who heard of it cursed Will