n.
Plank shook it awkwardly, and went away on tiptoe down the stairs which
creaked decorously under his weight.

And that ended the first interview between Plank and Siward in the first
days of the latter's decline.

The months that passed during Siward's absence from the city began to
prove rather eventful for Plank. He was finally elected a member of the
Patroons Club, without serious opposition; he had dined twice with
the Kemp Ferralls; he and Major Belwether were seen together at
the Caithness dance, and in the Caithness box at the opera. Once a
respectable newspaper reported him at Tuxedo for the week's end; his
name, linked with the clergy, frequently occupied such space under the
column headed "Ecclesiastical News" as was devoted to the progress of
the new chapel, and many old ladies began to become familiar with his
name.

At the right moment the Mortimers featured him between two fashionable
bishops at a dinner. Mrs. Vendenning, who adored bishops, immediately
remembered him among those asked to her famous annual bal poudre; a
celebrated yacht club admitted him to membership; a whole shoal of
excellent minor clubs which really needed new members followed suit, and
even the rock-ribbed Lenox, wearied of its own time-honoured immobility,
displayed the preliminary fidgets which boded well for the stolid
candidate. The Mountain was preparing to take the first stiff step
toward Mohammed. It was the prophet's cue to sit tight and yawn
occasionally.

Meanwhile he didn't want to; he was becoming anxious to do things for
himself, which Leila Mortimer, of course, would not permit. It was
difficult for him to understand that any effort of his own would
probably be disastrous; that progress could come only through his
own receptive passivity; that nothing was demanded, nothing required,
nothing permitted from him as yet, save a capacity for assimilating such
opportunities as sections of the social system condescended to offer.

For instance, he wanted to open his art gallery to the public; he said
it was good strategy; and Mrs. Mortimer sat upon the suggestion with
a shrug of her pretty shoulders. Well, then, couldn't he possibly do
something with his great, gilded ball-room? No, he couldn't; and the
less in evidence his galleries and his ball-rooms were at present the
better his chances with people who, perfectly aware that he possessed
them, were very slowly learning to overlook the insolence of the
accident that