by it.

He began to talk again, philosophizing about life generally and his own
life. He seemed to like to recall his career, and finally said: "Uncle
Jerry is successful too, and he never did care for anything else--except
his family. There is a clerk in my office on five thousand a year who is
never without a book when he comes to the office and when I see him on
the train. He has a wife and a nice little family in Jersey. I ask him
sometimes about his reading. He is collecting a library, but not of rare
books; says he cannot afford that. I think he is successful too, or will
be if he never gets more than five thousand a year, and is content with
his books and his little daily life, coming and going to his family.
Ah, well! Everybody must live his life. I suppose there is some
explanation of it all."

"Has anything gone wrong?" asked Carmen, anxiously.

"No, not at all. Nothing to interfere with the house of gold." He spoke
quite gently and sincerely. "I don't know what set me into this
moralizing. Let's look at the plans."

The next day--it was the first of June--in consultation with the
architect, a project was broached that involved such an addition of cost
that Carmen hesitated. She declared that it was a question of ways and
means, and that she must consult the chairman. Accordingly she called
her carriage and drove down to Henderson's office.

It was a beautiful day, a little warm in the narrow streets of the lower
city, but when she had ascended by the elevator to the high story that
Henderson occupied in one of the big buildings that rise high enough to
give a view of New York Harbor, and looked from the broad windows upon
one of the most sparkling and animated scenes in the world, it seemed
to her appreciative eyes a day let down out of Paradise.

The clerks all knew Mrs. Henderson, and they rose and bowed as she
tripped along smiling towards her husband's rooms. It did not seem to be
a very busy day, and she found no one waiting in the anteroom, and passed
into the room of his private secretary.

"Is Mr. Henderson in?"

"Yes, madam."

"And busy?"

"Probably busy," replied the secretary, with a smile, "but he is alone.
No one has disturbed him for over half an hour."

"Then I will go in."

She tapped lightly at the door. There was no response. She turned the
knob softly and looked in, and then, glancing back at the secretary, with
a finger uplifted, "I think he is asleep," opened the door, ste