the severed threads--his inheritance at the loom--and of retying
them, warp and weft, and continuing the pattern according to the designs
of the tufted, tinted pile-yarn, knotted in by his ancestors before him.

There was nothing else to do; so he did it. Civil and certain social
obligations were mechanically reassumed; he appeared in his sister's pew
for worship, he reenrolled in his clubs as a resident member once more;
the directors of such charities as he meddled with he notified of his
return; he remitted his dues to the various museums and municipal or
private organisations which had always expected support from his
family; he subscribed to the _Sun_.

He was more conservative, however, in mending the purely social strands
so long relaxed or severed. The various registers and blue-books
recorded his residence under "dilatory domiciles"; he did not subscribe
to the opera, preferring to chance it in case harmony-hunger attacked
him; pre-Yuletide functions he dodged, considering that his sister's
days in January and attendance at other family formalities were
sufficient.

Meanwhile he was looking for two things--an apartment and a job--the
first energetically combated by his immediate family.

It was rather odd--the scarcity of jobs. Of course Austin offered him
one which Selwyn declined at once, comfortably enraging his
brother-in-law for nearly ten minutes.

"But what do I know about the investment of trust funds?" demanded
Selwyn; "you wouldn't take me if I were not your wife's brother--and
that's nepotism."

Austin's harmless fury raged for nearly ten minutes, after which he
cheered up, relighted his cigar, and resumed his discussion with Selwyn
concerning the merits of various boys' schools--the victim in
prospective being Billy.

A little later, reverting to the subject of his own enforced idleness,
Selwyn said: "I've been on the point of going to see Neergard--but
somehow I can't quite bring myself to it--slinking into his office as a
rank failure in one profession, to ask him if he has any use for me
again."

"Stuff and fancy!" growled Gerard; "it's all stuff and fancy about your
being any kind of a failure. If you want to resume with that Dutchman,
go to him and say so. If you want to invest anything in his Long Island
schemes he'll take you in fast enough. He took in Gerald and some twenty
thousand."

"Isn't he very prosperous, Austin?"

"Very--on paper. Long Island farm lands and mortgages on