court," said Bradley, turning a little pale, as men of his temperament will under agitation, which makes a more nervous man fidgety.

Mr. Harcourt listened courteously, interrupting by no encouraging ahs, ehs, or ohs.

"I know that just at this time it may seem inopportune and offensive. I am not a politician, Mr. Harcourt. To be honest, I am not even your partisan."

"Your favor, then, is not of a political nature?" "No, sir," Bradley answered briefly.

"So much the better. This pile of letters and documents are all asking, demanding political favors, which I have not the power to grant. Your favor is then financial? Stock? In the Chinese railroad? I met you this morning on Boylston Street with that young engineer who proposes to build the Chinese railroad. I hope he will succeed, but at present it is like taking shares in the Celestial Kingdom-a little too unrealistic for us practical bondholders. Not financial? Well, I can only refuse you. That is little. I will grant it, if possible. What is it?"

"I wish your consent to address your daughter."

Mr. Harcourt looked at the young man steadily

for a full minute, his keen, steady blue eye seeming to penetrate his possible motives. Then, leaning back in his chair-the senatorial chair-he said:

"Young man, I will tell you a story. Twentyeight years ago I was married in the town of Lennox to Dorothy Crowninsword. There was a famous school at Lennox then, where Boston sent its daughters. I was only a law student, of no assured prospects. Dorothy Crowninsword was senior pupil at the Lennox school. It is a very old story, young man. We fell in love with each other. Dorothy's guardians (she had no parents) opposed the match. They had other views for Dorothy. Against her guardians' consent, we were married, and I took her to Mobile, where I opened my law-office. At the birth of our daughter, she died. I have never married again. My daughter never knew her mother, nor her mother's kin. Yet the man who will defeat me this January is my wife's cousin, and you bear the name on the card I hold here. You were ignorant of this story when you came to me to-day?"

"Entirely, sir," said Bradley, waiting till Mr. Harcourt should answer the question which was still held at bay.

66

Knowing it-knowing, too, that I shall in all

probability not be elected to my seat in the Senate-you still wish to address my daughter?"

"Most assuredly, Mr. Harcourt. I am, as you know, no politician. I have no future to offer Miss Harcourt which can satisfy her ambition or will surround her with any but the modest, somewhat dull accompaniments of a Boston gentleman's home."

"Yes, you are a Bostonian!" said Mr. Harcourt, reflectively. "She has not the Boston temperament. She has too many parts for Boston, and she has no specialty. I have had her educated beyond the Boston atmosphere. That is how it has happened that she has never felt the distinction of Crowninsword blood. A Crowninsword means no more than a Jenkins in Europe, and the local distinctions have not narrowed her; so that she is now worth all the Crowninswords in Boston. I am an ambitious man, Mr. Bradley. I pass for such, and a proud man, but my ambition and my pride are but feathers in the scale against the happiness of my daughter. Yet it is not in my power at this moment to influence her in any way in your favor. My word, as far as the American father's word goes in such matters, is pledged to another suitor. But there is only one word which will avail either of

you, and

that is my daughter's 'Yes.' You have my full permission to address her, but only with the knowledge that I have said as much to a man who has more to give than you can offer her ambition or vanity. She is, however, a woman of heart: whoever gains that, has my full and frank blessing, whether he be my political foe or friend, Protestant or Catholic, poor man or rich.”

"I thank you, Mr. Harcourt, and I hold that I have your consent to find Miss Harcourt in New York at once."

"Not at all. Your rival in the field has the right as the first comer to put his fate to the test. I am in honor bound to allow his claim precedence. If he fails, then you may go at once to New York."

Bradley showed some discomfiture at this piece of diplomatic temporizing, but, being no diplomate, was forced to abide by the decision, and remain also in ignorance of the name of his rival—a species of dark-lantern moral groping which was not flattering to his luminous soul, not accustomed to deal with obscurity.

CHAPTER XIII.

SOME MEN OF THE WORLD.

"DEAREST DUCHESS: You are, we know, in New York. Fortunately for us, we see the New York papers, which tell us not only that you are in New York, but where you dine and where you drive, what you wear and how you do your hair. The clever things you say even find their way into the 'Great at Home,' and we provincial people realize our blessing in having been allowed to know so distinguished a being. But, my dear duchess, when you come back we shall spread shawls from Tarsus and rugs from Turkey at your feet; and I shall offer you gold embroideries which have just been brought to me from China, and burn Joss-sticks as incense before you.

"If you have time, most gracious lady, to stop in all that round of dinners and drives, theatres and five-o'clock teas, to read the humble provincial mail, will you give a passing thought to the fact