d and
shocked on his return a week later at finding his aunt in bed and such
rigorous measures for quiet in vogue.

Arnold had been an inmate of the house for the past twelve years. He
was a direct importation from France, which he had left just before
attaining his majority, the glory of soldier-life not proving seductive
to his imagination. He had no sooner taken up his abode with his uncle
than he was regarded as the most useful and ornamental piece of foreign
vertu in the beautiful house.

Being a business man by nature, keen, wary, and indefatigable, he was
soon able to take almost the entire charge of Levice's affairs. In a few
years his uncle ceased to question his business capabilities. From
the time he arrived, he naturally fell into the position of his aunt's
escort, thus again relieving Levice, who preferred the quieter life.

When Ruth began to go into society, his presence was almost a necessity,
as Jewish etiquette, or rather Jewish espionage, forbids a young man
unattached by blood or intentions to appear as the attendant of a single
woman. This is one of the ways Jewish heads of families have got into
for keeping the young people apart,--making cowards of the young men,
and depriving the young girls of a great deal of innocent pleasure.

Arnold, however, was not an escort to be despised, as Ruth soon
discovered. She very quickly felt a sort of family pride in his cool,
quizzical manner and caustic repartee, that was wholly distinct from the
more girlish admiration of his distinguished person. He and Ruth were
great friends in a quiet, unspoken way.

They were sitting together alone in the library on the evening of his
return. Mrs. Levice had fallen asleep, and her husband was sitting with
her. Ruth had stolen down to keep Louis company, fearing he would feel
lonesome in the changed aspect of the house.

Arnold lay at full length on the lounge; Ruth swayed backward and
forward in the rocker.

"What I am surprised at," he was saying, "is that my aunt submits to
this confining treatment;" he pronounced the last word "tritment," but
he never stopped at a word because of its pronunciation, thus adding a
certain piquancy to his speech.

"You would not be surprised if you knew Dr. Kemp; one follows his
directions blindly."

"So I have heard from a great many--women."

"And not men?"

"I have never happened to hold a conversation with a man on the powers
of Dr. Kemp. Women delight in such things."