; a small iron boy holding over his head a
parasol from the ferrule of which a fountain squirted. The paths were of
asphalt, gray and gritty in winter, but now, in the summer heat, black
and pulpy to the tread.

There were many feet passing over them this afternoon, for Mr. and
Mrs. Matthew Wilson were giving a reception to celebrate the official
entrance of their daughter Amanda into a social life which she had
permeated unofficially for several years. The house was sizzling full
of people. Those who were jammed in the parlour tried to get into the
dining-room, and those who were packed in the dining-room struggled to
escape, holding plates of stratified cake and liquefied ice-cream high
above their neighbours' heads like signals of danger and distress.
Everybody was talking at the same time, in a loud, shrill voice, and
nobody listened to what anybody else was saying. But it did not matter,
for they all said the same things.

"Elegant house for a party, so full of--" "How perfectly lovely Amanda
Wilson looks in that--" "Awfully warm day! Were you at the Tompkins'
last--" "Wilson's Emporium must be doing good business to keep up all
this--" "Hear he's going to enlarge the store and take Luke Woods into
the--"

"Shouldn't wonder if there might be a wedding here before next--"

The tide of chatter rose and swelled and ebbed and suddenly sank away.
At six o'clock, the minister and two maiden ladies in black silk with
lilac ribbons, laid down their last plates of ice-cream and said they
thought they must be going. Amanda and her mother preened their dresses
and patted their hair. "Come into the study," said Mr. Wilson to Luke. "I
want to have a talk with you."

The little bookless room, called the study, was the one that kept its
eye on the shop and the business, away down the street. You could see
the brick front, and the plate-glass windows, and part of the gilt sign.

"Pretty good store," said Mr. Wilson, jingling the keys in his pocket,
"does the biggest trade in the county, biggest but one in the whole
state, I guess. And I must say, Luke Woods, you've done your share,
these last five years, in building it up. Never had a clerk work so hard
and so steady. You've got good business sense, I guess."

"I'm glad you think so," said Luke. "I did as well as I could."

"Yes," said the elder man, "and now I'm about ready to take you in with
me, give you a share in the business. I want some one to help me run
it, make