FROM 
 
 ~V Y TTl T ^T 'T^ T TT^ T"fc T~* -HH HP 
 H T^ \/ P T\ P
 
 LIBRARY 
 
 .vrry 01 
 
 IRVINE
 
 She put her bare arms around his neck and begged him 
 to come again soon.
 
 THAT MAN FROM 
 WALL STREET 
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 BY 
 
 RUTH EVERETT 
 
 Author of "Sowing to the Flesh; " "The Sin of Sebastian 
 Sackett; " "The Raphael Bigamy Case; " "A Pretty 
 Penitent;" "The Civilizing of Jasper Bullard;" 
 "Against This Nation, " Etc. 
 
 GEORGE THIELL LONG, Publisher 
 
 400 Manhattan Avenue 
 
 NEW YORK
 
 VM.S 
 
 COPYRIGHT, 1908 BY 
 GEORGE THIELL LONG 
 
 ALL RIGHTS RESERVED
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 Chapter Page 
 
 I. Is Life a Dream or Nightmare? - - - 13 
 
 II. In the Parlors of the Morton House To-night 
 
 at Nine Will 28 
 
 III. Let Me Help You When and How I Can. You 
 
 Will Need Some One on Whom to Rely - 38 
 
 IV. Is Friendship Merely a Term Used to Express 
 
 an Abstract Idea, Possessing no Concrete 
 Realty? - - - 48 
 
 V. The Prince, the Pirate, the Lieutenant - 52 
 VI. A Shadow is Cast - 63 
 
 VII. To Lighten the Load She Threw Her Hand 
 some Lieutenant Overboard - 76 
 
 VIII. The "Banker," Mauch Chunk, The Captain of 
 
 the "Grant" - - 85 
 
 IX. Now, if That Centurion Had Been a Captain in 
 
 the Navy 101 
 
 X. 'Tis Thus They're Taught to Woo on Wall 
 
 Street - 112 
 
 XI. Love from Every Heart and Hand, But Not the 
 Smallest Token from the Man for Whose 
 Sake She Had so Nearly Tasted Death - 123 
 
 XII. Are Gentlemen Then so Scarce? - - 138 
 
 XIII. There Are as Many Different Grades of Love 
 
 as There Are Men and Women Who Feel 
 
 It 147 
 
 XIV. A Constant Stream of Hypnotic Power Exuded 
 
 from Every Pore of My Skin - - 156 
 
 XV. Had I Known of Your Love in Time I Would 
 Not Have Trespassed. But it is Too Late 
 Now ----- 170 
 
 II
 
 CONTENTS 
 
 Chapter 
 XVI. 
 
 XVII. 
 XVIII. 
 
 XIX. 
 
 XX. 
 
 XXI. 
 
 XXII. 
 XXIII. 
 
 XXIV. 
 
 XXV. 
 
 XXVI. 
 
 XXVII. 
 XXVIII. 
 
 XXIX. 
 XXX. 
 
 XXXI. 
 
 Page 
 
 How Much "Water" it Takes to Make a Rail 
 road Cost Nothing a Mile 179 
 
 How a Naval Officer Justified Himself - - 186 
 The Collateral Upon Which the "Prince" Got 
 
 His Sweets on Credit 
 
 194 
 
 "She Was Forced to Set Her Own Feelings 
 Down as a Mystery, Inexplicable Even to 
 Herself" - - - 205 
 
 The Pump at Both Ends - 214 
 
 "The Saddest of it All is This: That no One 
 on Earth Does Know, or Ever Can Know 
 Me" - - - - - 222 
 
 How the "Prince" Worked up a Corner and a 
 
 "Bull" Market - 230 
 
 And God Made Man in His Own Image and 
 
 Likeness - - 240 
 
 The Glass, the Lizard and the Paster - 255 
 There is Hope for Her - 265 
 
 "She's Mine Every Bit of Her. I Persevered 
 
 and I Got Her" - 276 
 
 The Sting Ray - 288 
 
 The Subjective Likeness and the Objective 
 
 Pastel ',-' - - 302 
 
 "Oh, Adrian! Adrian!" - 316 
 
 Observe How Well-Defined and Clear-Cut Are 
 
 the Lines in the Subjective Likeness - 332 
 
 We Still Dwell in Your Midst; But Here Pre 
 sent Ourselves to You for a Last Farewell 351 
 
 12
 
 CHAPTER I. 
 " Is Life a Dream or a Nightmare? " 
 
 " Keeping shop all alone, Ned?" 
 
 " Well, yes. I've been enjoying my own sweet 
 thoughts for an hour or so. " 
 
 " Where are Nell and ' Bronze' ? " 
 
 " Nell went to take home a lot of work, and col 
 lect some money due her ; ' Bronze ' has gone driving. 
 The girls went out together. Nell told me to say she 
 would not be back to the studio today, as she wished 
 to do some shopping; but she would be home to 
 dinner. ' Bronze ' laughed and said 'Tell Ola that, so 
 far as the dinner is concerned, I think I can do better ; 
 but I'll most likely be catalogued among the chickens 
 and bad pennies sometime between this and sunrise.' " 
 
 " Happy ' Bronze': She has plenty of money, and 
 she never thinks. I could not possibly fancy a com 
 bination more conductive to longevity. But, Ned, 
 don't you think ' Bronze ' the personification of ' La 
 mollesse d'une vie effeminee? ' 
 
 " Yes, she seems to loll through life on downy 
 beds of ease. " 
 
 " She has the loveliest disposition of anything in 
 the shape of frail flesh, I ever saw in my life; she is 
 always agreeable, tender-hearted, charitable, obliging. 
 I never heard her say a word of harm of any body. 
 
 13
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 Sorrows which she cannot relieve, she flies from. 
 There are times when I feel dreadfully ultra-marine. 
 Then I am apt to go into my little room and close 
 the doors. If Nell happens to be in the house at 
 those times when memories crowd upon me, she and 
 'Bronze' avoid the 'quarantined quarter' for that's 
 what 'Bronze' calls my little room until I feel better 
 and come forth ; but if ' Bronze ' is in the flat alone 
 with me, I can hear her walking aimlessly up and 
 down the halls, in and out of the parlor, and the 
 other rooms, for a short time; then she dons her 
 street attire and sallies forth into the sunshine for 
 it's sunshine for 'Bronze' where there are no long 
 faces, even if it's teeming rain. I often envy her. " 
 
 " I don't think you have occasion ; of the two dis 
 positions I should prefer yours, " said Ned, and he 
 looked at Ola in a candid, respectful, brotherly way ; 
 just as though he had a right to love and admire 
 her, and to speak of his appreciation of her without 
 let or hindrance. 
 
 Ola laughed softly and said, " Ah, Ned, I am afraid 
 you will not get many contracts to select dispositions 
 for the trade. You are a poor judge of what sort of 
 tempers and temperaments it's comfortable to bide 
 wi'" 
 
 St. Claire laughed and blushed a little. He always 
 blushed when he felt called upon to defend himself. 
 " I am not going to have you challenging my talents 
 unless you are willing to admit that I might be 
 at least mediocre, were you not a competitor, " said 
 he. 
 
 14
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 " I have too much good sense to compete with 
 'Bronze' in anything, " said Ola. 
 
 " Then I must adhere to my original statement 
 and say that of the two dispositions I prefer yours. " 
 
 " Might one ask why?" said Ola. 
 
 " Certainly; in the first place I think it would be 
 about as impossible to awaken a concentrated sen 
 timent in Miss Hilton as it would be to vivify a Venus, 
 cast in bronze " 
 
 "Oh, now you are unjust; Georgia is all tender 
 ness to everybody, " broke in Ola impetuously and em 
 phatically, with more desire to defend her friend, 
 than to heed the rules of politeness. 
 
 Ignoring alike the interruption, the impetuosity, 
 and the strong emphasis, the man quietly continued : 
 " To the extent of the woman's capacity, yes ; but 
 she has little if any more love for one person than for 
 another. I don't know that you ever did love a 
 man, but you have the capacity ; and if a lazzarone on 
 the street corner really had your love, a Prince of 
 Bourbon could not seduce you from your hut. " 
 
 " Good heavens, am I such an idiot as that? " said 
 Ola, but she felt pleased. 
 
 " That is my estimate of you, but I think 
 'Bronze' is so fond of the admiration of men that she 
 could not now, mark you, I mean she could not, and 
 not that she would not be satisfied if all human per 
 fections could be concentrated in one perfect man, 
 and that man should worship her. I do not think she 
 would be true to any man. " 
 
 " Do you think there is any man on earth who is 
 15
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 worth it?" said Ola, and she shut her teeth a little 
 tightly and looked down at a wolf-skin rug on the 
 floor, with a sort of bitter expression on her face, 
 and a slight squint in her eyes; then she sighed faint 
 ly and looked up at Ned, who had paused to let these 
 small, unpleasant, thought-ripples relapse into a 
 smooth surface. 
 
 " Perhaps not, " he answered, " but ' Bronze ' 
 would accept, enjoy, encourage, attention from the 
 lover of her best friend yours, for instance, if you 
 had one. " 
 
 " And the man, what would he do? " 
 " Oh, most promptly and properly fall a victim to 
 the charms of her voluptuousness, I suppose. What 
 do you expect of a man? " said Ned. 
 
 " Nothing, " Ola replied with a vigorous, bitter 
 accent. 
 
 " Are you ever disappointed in your expecta 
 tions? " said Ned. 
 
 " So far as men are concerned, do you mean?" 
 " Yes, did you ever meet a noble man?" 
 The woman shook her head sadly; there was a 
 settled, mournful expression in her face. " I am not 
 wearing out any more shoes going on pilgrimages in 
 search of noble men, Ned. I've crossed that Rubicon 
 and burned my ships behind me. There are honest 
 men in this world, plenty of them, thank God ! 
 pardon the expression, please, and attribute its use 
 to a desire to be emphatic, rather than as a confession 
 of faith. Yes, there are honest men in this world, and 
 when my fate is cast among them, I am more than 
 
 16
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 content. I am neither searching for nobility, nor do I 
 believe in it, except as a figure of speech, and as a 
 comparative term, serviceable in rhetoric. " 
 
 " Then you think man incapable of rising above 
 commercial honesty?" said Ned, and in the look he 
 gave Ola, there was a slight plea that she would con 
 fess a little faith in his sex. 
 
 It was only in his look and inflection, not in the 
 words; and she either did not know it was there, 
 or she chose to ignore it, for she said : " I am 
 happy to say that my knowledge of the sex 
 is too limited to permit me to give an opinion as to 
 what they are capable of rising above. I only know 
 that of those with whom I am acquainted, some are 
 honest ; most are not. I have read of noble men, I 
 never saw one. Look, for instance, at the case of 
 'Bronze.' When she was young, innocent, full of 
 faith, Captain Gordon met her, wooed her, and, as she 
 believed, married her " 
 
 " Oh, well, we have to overlook such little irregu 
 larities in sea captains, " said Ned, in his turn for 
 getting that it is not polite to interrupt a speaker. 
 
 " I do not extend to him any charity because he is, 
 or was at one time, a sea captain ; for I believe him 
 to be neither better nor worse than the average man. 
 There is even a spark in the man which one must ad 
 mire. He called at the house one day to see 
 'Bronze' when she was out; got quite confidential 
 with me, and talked without reserve of the 'injury' he 
 had done the girl. Said he to me : 'In the days when 
 I first became enamoured of Georgia, and was deter- 
 
 17
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 mined to possess her, it became necessary for me to 
 do one of two things: I must either seduce her, and 
 thus lay the foundation for her to disrespect and pos 
 sibly despise herself, some day; or I must go through 
 a form of marriage with her ; and, in so doing, give her 
 the satisfaction of thinking me a damned rascal. I 
 chose the latter. ' ' But you took the chance of the 
 state prison, ' said I, 'for you know the Captain is a 
 married man. ' ' Yes, ' he replied, ' I did. When she 
 came to know the wrong I had done her, I wanted her 
 to realize also how much I had loved her.' " 
 
 "And this is not nobility?" said Ned, looking at 
 Ola as though she had convicted herself. 
 
 " Only a slight aspiration that way, Ned. Those 
 little divine sparks fly off from even the worst of us, at 
 times. But any continuous nobility in man, or wo 
 man either, for that matter, because the only dif 
 ference between them is in sex, is what I deny. The 
 Captain is not a noble man. He gives 'Bronze' a gen 
 erous allowance, true enough, and he knows she has 
 plenty of attention from other sources; but, do you 
 fancy he would endure this state of affairs if he were 
 not obliged to? Not by any means. To use a slang 
 expression she's got him foul, and he knows it. If 
 he dared, he would say, ' My beauty you devote your 
 self to me and to your art, or no allowance.' If he 
 were truly noble he would say to her, 'My girl, be 
 happy if you can. Of course I suffer, in knowing you are 
 surrounded by flatterers; but leave that to me. I de 
 serve it. No matter what you do, or to what depth of 
 degradation you sink, while I have a dollar, you may 
 
 18
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 call upon me for at least half.' Instead of this most 
 desirable condition of affairs, it has been necessary, in 
 the past, for ' Bronze ' to have her lawyer write him a 
 letter. Give it up, Ned; there is nothing perfect on 
 earth except me, and the knowledge of that fact is not 
 very widely circulated. Ah, me, what a tiresome 
 world!" 
 
 Ola arose and began looking over some samples 
 of low grade art, in the way of labels, which the 
 printers had reproduced from her designs. " Did you 
 ever notice, Ned, what a fat, purple, apoplectic look 
 the printers always give to the tomatoes ? " and she 
 laughed as she held up a label for a tomato can. 
 
 " The fear would be that they might superinduce 
 gout instead of cancer, " said Ned. 
 
 " Oh, I tell you, I am so sick and tired of this 
 work. How I would like to get out of it! The 
 fishes on the salmon cans look as if they couldn't by 
 any possibility belong to the vertebrate animals 
 the asparagus comes out a most unwholesome 
 green, which makes one suspect that it was cooked in 
 a copper, or, rather, a brass kettle; the corn is stiff, 
 precise, uninviting-looking worse even than that 
 which has been boiled for hours in cheap restaurants ; 
 blue cherries on lamp shades, brown roses on tea 
 cups and saucers. Oh, art, to what depths of defile 
 ment are thou condemned!" said Ola, and she looked 
 tired, and worn, and unsatisfied. 
 
 " Titian painting signs for a hair store, and 
 Spenser writing verse to advertise a summer excur 
 sion, is it?" said Ned. 
 
 19
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 " Perhaps not quite as bad as that, but I am 
 awfully discontented with my work; tired of it, tired 
 of my friends, tired of myself, " she said, and she still 
 looked with disgust on the tomato can label. 
 
 " Well, why don't you put an end to all this weari 
 ness?" 
 
 " Pray tell me how I may do so, and I promise 
 you I shall lose no time. " 
 
 " You can rid yourself of your friends, by being 
 systematically 'not-at-home,' and of yourself and your 
 work at one and the same time, by marrying the 
 'Banker.' " 
 
 The woman laughed a low, musical laugh, as 
 though she were amused through and through ; and 
 then she said, " I am afraid, Ned, that would be a 
 change but not an improvement. Now, I might learn 
 to endure that Yankee nasal twang ; I might become 
 quite reconciled to hearing him say : ' I went up the 
 rud (road) becus (because) I wanted to see a man'; 
 and to the fact that he could not pronounce an "r," at 
 the end of a word, if hanging were the punishment 
 for the crime ; but, good grief ! just think of having to 
 walk through life with a man who turns in his toes. " 
 And again she laughed at the very thought of the 
 Boston-bred banker. 
 
 "Then why not rid yourself of him altogether? 
 Why keep the poor wretch hoping? " 
 
 " To answer your last query first, I am not losing 
 any sleep in pitying him. He'll recover. Never fear ; 
 they all do. 'Men have died from time to time, and 
 worms have eaten them, but not for love.' Now, as 
 
 20
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 to why I don't rid myself of him if the Lord knows, 
 then somebody does; but I am sure I don't. I 
 suppose I am human enough, woman enough, to be 
 affected by the knowledge that no matter how many 
 of his invitations I refuse, upon the plea of fatigue, 
 he will renew the attack within fifteen days. " 
 
 " Then you do appreciate love, even where you 
 can't return it?" said Ned, and he seemed rather 
 anxious that she should give a direct answer to his 
 question. 
 
 But he was doomed to disappointment, for she 
 laughingly said, "Love? Who is sacrilegious enough 
 to apply the sacred term of love to the feeling that 
 man has for me ? " 
 
 "What is it, then?" 
 
 " Nothing more nor less than a desire to enter 
 into peaceable possession and enjoyment of the per 
 sonal property known to the world as Mrs. Ola Del. " 
 
 " Exactly, and that is love, " said St. Claire. 
 
 " I can't agree with you there, Ned. I know most 
 people do. But, by some peculiarity of my organiza 
 tion, the greedy look which would delight most wo 
 men, only disgusts me. " 
 
 " But you walk up and take a voluntary dose of 
 this ' disgust ' every once in a while, " said Ned, as 
 though he were entering a protest. 
 
 " Yes, I do, and I have often wondered why 
 toxicologists frequently try their own poisons on 
 themselves. The effect various people have upon my 
 nerves, has always been of interest to me. I respect 
 the 'Banker' but I do not love him. If I intended 
 
 21
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 to marry, which I do not, I could not wed that man, if 
 he could, and would, give me Manhattan Island ; so I 
 suppose I shall go on making 'apopletic tomatoes,' 
 ' until my summons comes to join the innumerable 
 caravan. ' I do not object to work, but I would like 
 something into which I could put my heart. There is 
 an inborn feeling in all who breathe, to live as long 
 as possible. Even those, who, like myself, have given 
 up the fond delusion of immortality, would still like to 
 leave a track behind them after they are resolved to 
 earth again. The artist would leave a canvas that tra 
 velers would go thousands of miles to see, or a beauti 
 ful figure chiseled from marble or moulded in bronze ; 
 the writer would leave a romance of which the com 
 ing ages would not weary; the poet, an idyl; the 
 musician, a harmonious score; those who have noth 
 ing better, would make amends for their own errors 
 by guiding their children aright. If but a mere spark 
 of heavenly ambition be within the soul, to work at a 
 craft whose pursuit means failure as far as any per 
 sonal recognition or fame is concerned, to know that 
 one must grind on and on, day after day, and see 
 one's effort sink as hopelessly out of sight as water 
 poured upon the sands of a desert that is indeed soul- 
 sickening. " 
 
 " But you get all the actual and necessary comfort 
 there is in life from your work, " said Ned. 
 
 " That depends entirely upon what you deem the 
 actual and necessary comforts of life. To me the sub 
 jective is just as actual, just as necessary as the ob 
 jective more so even for the real, the actual, the 
 
 22
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 tangible, has about all the bloom rubbed off. I some 
 times think the only real things in life are those we 
 dream, those for which we work and wait and hope. 
 In my dreams I never see 'apoplectic tomatoes.' In my 
 nightmares I frequently do. " 
 
 " Is life a dream or a nightmare?" 
 
 These words were spoken by a masculine voice, 
 evidently coming from the door of entrance into the 
 studio from the main hall of the building. Both Ned 
 St. Claire and Ola, who had been standing at a 
 table with their backs towards the door, busy looking 
 over some prints, turned suddenly around. Ola's pale 
 face blanched to a death-like whiteness ; with both 
 hands she rubbed her black curls back from her fore 
 head in a dazed sort of way, gave a moan, as 
 if stricken with a sudden and mortal agony, and fell 
 fainting to the floor. 
 
 Stepping lightly into the studio, the gentleman 
 whose words had caused this mischief, knelt by the 
 side of Ola, held her hand a moment in his, arose, 
 brushed the dust off his knees, took a card out of his 
 pocketbook, wrote a few words on it, and, having laid 
 the card on the table, said to St. Claire, " The lady is 
 evidently over- worked and nervous; but do not be 
 alarmed, she is only in a faint ; she will soon recover. 
 I regret to have been at least the seeming cause of 
 this attack. If I can be of any service to you, com 
 mand me. " 
 
 With a slight and graceful gesture of his hand to 
 ward the card on the table, he bowed and walked out 
 of the studio. 
 
 23
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 St. Claire was alone with Ola. He did not care to 
 summon any of the other artists in the building lest 
 explanations might be in order, and he could not 
 leave her alone; so he did what few things he could 
 think of doing, and patiently, though anxiously, await 
 ed developments. 
 
 In after years, whenever St. Claire thought of that 
 afternoon, and his lone watch beside the fainting wo 
 man, he was reminded of the way in which a little 
 boy told about having a tooth extracted. Said the 
 child, "The dentist put the forceps on, and pulled, 
 and pulled, and pulled, and just before it killed me, the 
 tooth came out. " 
 
 Ned knelt beside Ola, and just when he thought 
 she would never revive, the fluttering breath returned ; 
 she groaned and opened her eyes. After St. Claire 
 had led her to the sofa, she seemed in no great hurry 
 to talk. He began looking over some art journals, 
 knowing well that if she had anything to communi 
 cate, she would speak, without any solicitations from 
 him ; and that if she had not, a question would receive 
 a polite, but evasive answer. His seat was at such 
 an angle from her that he could watch the expression 
 of her countenance without her knowledge; and he 
 did not scruple to take this advantage of her. It 
 seemed to him that he saw depicted there fear and dis 
 gust, mingled a little with doubt. 
 
 After a long reflective self-communion, she said, 
 " Ned, what kind of a looking man was he who 
 frightened me so?" 
 
 24
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 " I had so little time to notice, " said he briefly, 
 not raising his eyes from the art journal. 
 
 This vexed Ola, for she thought St. Claire was 
 suspicious of her, and that his suspicion made him 
 assume indifference, and that he was playing his part 
 badly. Somewhat sarcastically she asked, " Did you 
 pay enough heed to tell if he were white or black? " 
 
 By this remark St. Claire learned that his talents 
 as a dissembler were not appreciated ; so he left off his 
 inspection of the art journal, and bringing a light 
 chair up to the sofa, he seated himself and said, 
 " As near as I can remember, the man was about 
 five feet seven ; thin, of blond complexion, with peculiar 
 colored blue eyes, deep-set in the head and close to 
 gether; teeth white and even, one premolar oil either 
 side of the upper jaw missing; a peculiar, and rather 
 pleasing expression around the mouth when smiling, 
 indicative of an ingenuous trust in his brother man. 
 One is somewhat in doubt whether to take as an index 
 of his character the questioning, suspicious, rat-like 
 expression of the eyes, or the frank smile around the 
 mouth, or neither. 
 
 Ola made no comment, asked no questions , but 
 returned to her reverie. 
 
 As he walked away from her, St. Claire thought : 
 " Under ordinary circumstances she would have been 
 quick enough to batter me with good natured ridicule 
 at the discrepancy of my two statements. This is evi 
 dently an extraordinary circumstances. Poor girl ! 
 poor girl !" In fact, St. Claire had really had little 
 enough time in which to notice how the stranger 
 
 25
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 looked, but he had put that time to the best possible 
 use, and the make-up which could disguise that man 
 so that St. Claire would not know him, were he to see 
 him again, must needs be skillful indeed. 
 
 " Did you learn his name? " said Ola languidly. 
 
 " He left this card. " St. Claire gave Ola the card 
 the gentleman had placed on the table and she read 
 aloud : 
 
 RANDOLPH MARMADUKE 
 
 Accountant 
 Morton House. New York City. 
 
 "Well, I never heard that name before in my life, " 
 said she, and St. Claire thought Ola looked brighter, 
 more hopeful. By accident, she got the card near 
 her face, when, suddenly dropping it, she turned pale. 
 " Don't you like the smell of it? " thought he. He 
 watched his opportunity to see what effect the bit of 
 pasteboard would have on him. It was rank with 
 some sort of perfume. What was it? He could not 
 tell, but evidently the base of the odor was musk. 
 Was there any connecting-link between that card and 
 Ola's pronounced abomination of perfumes? He had 
 known her to take the most violent prejudices against 
 sti angers for which she could, or would, give no 
 possible reason; and he had invariably noticed that 
 such strangers used perfumes. 
 
 " Well, Ned, I suppose I might as well shut up 
 26
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 shop and go home. I hope I shall get my allowance 
 of bread to-night, but I am sure I have not earned it. 
 In more senses than one, I can truthfully say I have 
 lost the day. " 
 
 In a trembling, nervous way, Ola made such pre 
 parations as were necessary for leaving the studio for 
 the night, and then she and St. Claire descended to 
 the street and there separated; he going toward the 
 east side of the city and she up town.
 
 CHAPTER II. 
 
 " In the parlors of the Morton House to-night, at nine. 
 
 " Will. " 
 
 The flat in which lived Ola Del, Georgia Hilton, 
 and Nell Thorne, was warm and bright and cheerful, 
 when Ola came in from the street. Pretty little 
 Nora, with her black hair held down by her dainty 
 frilled cap, and her neat gingham frock and white 
 apron, fluttered in and out of the dining-room as she 
 put the finishing touches to the table she was setting 
 for dinner. Now and then she addressed a remark to 
 Ola and Nell with her north-of-Ireland brogue, and if 
 you were not an expert in the matter of accents, you 
 would be in doubt whether the girl were Scotch or 
 Irish. Nora was a never ceasing source of amuse 
 ment to Nell but then, Nell was determined to be 
 amused. 
 
 Here, in this flat of eight rooms in which these 
 three artists lived with their maid of all work, dwelt 
 perfect harmony. Although Ola Del was the ostensi 
 ble mistress of the establishment, and the others only 
 boarders, there was yet a family feeling, and a com 
 munity-interest. The bulk of the furniture belonged 
 to Ola, but each woman had individual trifles in her 
 own room, which gave a stamp of character to the 
 apartment Over all this Nora reigned with pride 
 and pleasure. All was clean and orderly; and rosv- 
 
 28
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 cheeked, black-eyed Nora loved her place and her 
 "ladies. " 
 
 Georgia Hilton, (" Bronze "), was rather tall and 
 stout; she had a wealth of most beautiful hair about 
 the color of the mixture of metals known as bronze, 
 with eyes to match. It was from these peculiar fea 
 tures that Ola had given her the sobriquet of 
 " Bronze. " Georgia took kindly to the nickname, 
 and it became generally adopted by all her friends. 
 
 No one feature of " Bronze's " face, viewed apart, 
 was pretty, but there was perfect harmony in face, 
 form, and disposition. She was lively but not viva 
 cious. There was a soft, dulcet tone to her voice 
 when she spoke, and a most musical cadence to her 
 laugh. She " made haste slowly " in everything she 
 did. She was neat, orderly, and had excellent taste 
 in dress, as in everything else. No article of 
 " Bronze's " wearing apparel, no ornament in her 
 room was every shoddy in appearance. She painted 
 fairly well, especially flowers ; but she worked only 
 when the caprice took her. Captain Gordon's allow 
 ance put quite a damper on " Bronze's " ambition and 
 industry. 
 
 When she learned the true state of affairs between 
 herself and the Captain, she accepted the situation 
 like a stoic. " No amount of tragedy would make it 
 any different," she said. She did not even indulge in 
 the feminine weakness of hating or railing at the 
 Captain. She accepted his explanation, with his al 
 lowance, and went along just as if nothing out of the 
 ordinary had happened. The Captain loved her, and 
 
 29
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 she liked him ; probably better than she did any body 
 else. For in spite of the wrong he had done her, she 
 appreciated the reliability and constancy of his love. 
 " Bronze " had lots of admirers, and she liked every 
 body who was likeable but she loved no one. 
 
 One Sunday morning at breakfast, Ola, who had 
 been listening to " Bronze " and Nell laughing at the 
 distress of some gentlemen they had been in company 
 with the evening before, asked " Bronze " if she had 
 never loved anybody in her life. 
 
 " Yes, " said " Bronze, " " when I was about 
 fifteen years old, I loved a West Point cadet so much 
 that I trembled like a leaf every time he came 
 near me. He stole all my jewelry and ribbons and 
 little trinkets, and gave them to his best girl. That 
 was enough for me. I have never loved any man 
 since. " And she laughed as though it were very 
 funny, not a shade of bitterness lurking in her tone. 
 
 " So now you intend to have your own fun with 
 them. Well, that's right. Just deceive them, that's 
 all they are good for, even the best of them, " said 
 Ola. 
 
 " Oh, I don't know about deceiving them. It 
 isn't deception I want, especially. It's just to kill 
 time, to be amused, and so get through life as com 
 fortably as possible. I don't blame the men for what 
 they do. They can't help it, they are built that way. 
 And then I find them exceedingly convenient, with 
 their invitations to places of amusement, their din 
 ners, and drives," " Bronze " answered good-na 
 turedly. 
 
 30
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 " How do you think the Captain likes it ? " 
 said Ola, and in her heart she felt somewhat sorry 
 for the Captain, whose love had prompted him to the 
 commission of so great a wrong. 
 
 "He's got to like it," said "Bronze," "for I 
 haven't the slightest idea of doing differently. " 
 
 And this was " Bronze. " She ate, she drank, she 
 played the banjo, she painted, she flirted, she grati 
 fied the physical woman in every respect, nor troubled 
 herself about either the here, or the hereafter. 
 
 And Nell? Nell was a little sunny-haired 
 creature, not supertidy nor orderly. She did a great 
 many things passably, and nothing excellently; but 
 she was content with her work, accomplished an im 
 mense amount of it, and was the best business woman 
 of the three. She never looked into the future, never 
 spent any money until she had it, never counted her 
 prospects, but trafficked only in her possessions. She 
 took work with fifty cents guaranteed, in preference 
 to a contingent fifty-dollar job. If dealers owed 
 her money, she made them pay it. She went through 
 all sorts of wind and weather, drabbled her skirts 
 with mud, as far up as she could drabble them with 
 out actually getting down and rolling over. She ran 
 down the muddy steps of the elevated roads and 
 dragged her skirts after her. She was a dreadfully 
 destructive little jade, destroying everything she came 
 near, whether it belonged to herself, or to another. All 
 her clothes and little possessions were shoddy as shod 
 dy could be ; and yet she had an artistic taste and touch, 
 and somehow or another she managed to look stylish. 
 
 31
 
 'TIS THUS THEY WOO ON WALL STREET 
 
 She would do the most foolish things in the world, 
 and often gave people just cause for thinking ill of 
 her. But when it came to acts which violated the 
 code of her well-regulated conscience, you could 
 count her out, every time. She was engaged to Jack 
 Newman, with the understanding that they would 
 marry " when they could see their way clear. " 
 
 Jack was an artist also; but he was somewhat 
 visionary, and Nell was always bringing him back 
 from his dreams to the grist of the useful. Had he 
 been half as industrious and sensible as she was, 
 that waiting " to see their way clear " would have 
 been much shorter. 
 
 And Ola Del? Of the three women, the marks 
 of a thorough education, early association with lux 
 uries and refinements, and patrician blood were most 
 noticeable in her; but she was reticent, in the ex 
 treme, as to her past. She often said, with a sad 
 smile, that she was 'the last of the Mohicans,' the 
 only one living, of all her family, not having one re 
 lative by consanguinity on all the earth. 
 
 Ola was neat and orderly, but the poorest of poor 
 business women. If dealers owed her money and paid 
 it, it was all right. If they owed it, and did not 
 pay it, she never asked them for it. She worked along 
 at a low grade of art, and most thoroughly detested 
 her work. Her thoughts were always of the future, 
 and some great and imperishable work she should 
 one day produce something that might live for at 
 least a few hundred years. She was visionary and 
 impractical in the extreme. Logical, reasonable, 
 
 3*
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 clairvoyant, she was; and yet these three offsprings 
 of wisdom were led into the most hopeless mirage 
 by dreams and fancies more extravagant than those 
 of an Eastern poet. She believed that the dead are 
 dead ; and yet she looked up at the stars and said, 
 "In that one, is such a beloved one, and in that one 
 such another, and in that one is still another, and they 
 see me, and love me, and pity me. " 
 
 And she held her arms up to the stars, and said, 
 " Come to me once more, my beloved dead, come and 
 embrace me. " 
 
 And when she was all alone, and the night was 
 beautiful and calm, and she communed thus with the 
 stars, she turned away from them comforted, and 
 this comfort rested with her until the rough con 
 tact with the world on the following day scattered it. 
 But she firmly believed that the dead are dead. She 
 said so. 
 
 Ola was of medium height and slight figure. She 
 had a great wealth of the most beautiful, soft, fine, 
 curly black hair that ever crowned a woman's head ; 
 and large grey-black eyes that is, eyes which though 
 grey, frequently looked black. She was not pretty, 
 not even a little bit. Saying to herself "There is 
 nothing perfect on earth, " she nevertheless longed 
 to be perfect herself and to love and be loved by a 
 perfect man a man perfect in all noble and god-like 
 qualities. Ah, she was a sad dreamer! and the 
 awakening from those dreams of beauty to the 
 hideous and repellent reality, cast a gloom over 
 her, made her almost habitually melancholy. Every- 
 
 33
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 thing in life had been a disappointment to her; her 
 self most of all. 
 
 "What's the matter?" said Nell at the dinner 
 table that evening. " You are silent, and you look as 
 frightened as though you had seen a ghost. " 
 
 " Perhaps I have, " said Ola. 
 
 " Well, if you have no more serious trouble, cheer 
 up. I have often heard you say the dead are dead. 
 You are worse than a funeral procession. " 
 
 " Yes, the dead are dead. But the trouble is, 
 some people never die," said Ola in so sad a tone that 
 she frightened herself. 
 
 She feared Nell would make some personal and 
 direct application of her remark, and she nervously 
 and hastily added, " Rich and heirless relatives, for 
 instance. " 
 
 Then Ola made a desperate effort to be gay, 
 through fear that Nell would suspect about that vis 
 itor at the studio, and she so over-did the part, that 
 when " Bronze " came in, she wondered if the girls 
 had been drinking wine. 
 
 That night, when Ola was alone, she looked up at 
 the stars and said to herself, " It is only a question of 
 time when the agony must begin again. " She went 
 to bed, but could not sleep, and arose the next morn 
 ing unrefreshed and more disgusted with her life 
 than ever. At the studio she was more dissatisfied 
 with her work than ever. The visitor did not return, 
 but this was no comfort to her. He would come, she 
 knew, and the sooner the better, she said. 
 
 Two weeks passed, when one evening, upon her 
 34
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 return to the flat, Nora handed her a note. She open 
 ed it and read 
 
 " In the parlor of the Morton House to-night at 9. 
 
 " Will." 
 
 She instantly destroyed the note. After dinner 
 she opened her piano and played all the jigs and dance 
 and martial music she could think of; and at ten 
 o'clock she went to bed. After that, the notes came 
 every day for a couple of weeks. Always the same 
 request 
 
 " In the parlor of the Morton House to-night at 9. 
 
 "Will." 
 
 Then Nora told her that a gentleman had called to 
 see her, during the day, who refused to give his 
 name, or state his business. 
 
 "What kind of a looking man was he, Nora? " 
 
 " Oh, Mum, he was about the build of Mr. St. 
 Claire, light complected and but, Mum, as to the 
 expression of his countenance, I didn't take notice. " 
 
 Nell burst into a hearty laugh at the quaint ex 
 pression, and said, " Nora, you must always take 
 notice of the expression of a man's countenance. Noth 
 ing is more important. Only by taking heed there 
 unto can you tell the rats from the mice. " 
 
 Although Nora had a suspicion that she was 
 being laughed at, she answered deferentially, " In 
 deed, then, Mum, I'm sure I'd know a rat from a 
 
 35
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 mouse. Sure, it's big enough rats used to be in our 
 barn, home in Ireland, and there's a mouse in my 
 kitchen closet now, that I can't persuade, bate the 
 trap how I will, to go in. " 
 
 " Should this mysterious personage return, Nora, 
 you may say there is no reason why he should not 
 state his business to you, " said Ola. 
 " I will, then, Mum. " 
 
 St. Claire dropped in that evening. He noticed, 
 with regret, that Ola was thin and pale; that in the 
 grey-black eyes there was a nervous, frightened look; 
 that she paced restlessly up and down the room ; that 
 she talked more pessimistically than usual; that she 
 seemed ever and ever more discontented with her 
 work; that the torture of her ambition to do one 
 meritorious piece before she died was gaining 
 strength, as the woman was losing it; that if he inci 
 dentally mentioned marriage with the " Banker, " as a 
 means of furnishing her with the funds necessary 
 to prosecute her studies, she flew at him in a temper 
 and bade him never mention that hideous, perfumed 
 Yankee to her again. 
 
 " She will tell me what is on her heart after a 
 time. I must wait, " thought Ned. 
 
 Ola was nervous, restless; she could neither eat 
 nor sleep. The next morning when the postman rang, 
 she went down to the door herself, and took the let 
 ters from the box. The young women got consider 
 able mail ; orders from dealers, letters from friends, 
 and lovers. The postman had fallen into the habit 
 of putting any letter addressed to the number, when 
 
 36
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 he did not know to whom it belonged, in the " Del " 
 box. This morning among the others there was, as 
 usual, one from " Will, " and another, addressed : 
 
 " To the landlord or landlady of No. Blank 
 Street. 
 
 "New York City, 
 N. Y. " 
 Ola opened it and read : 
 
 " Dear Sir, or Madam : 
 
 " Can you tell me if one Mrs. Ola Del still resides 
 at your house, and if not, where a letter will reach 
 her? I have something important to communicate, 
 to her. 
 
 " Respectfully yours, 
 
 "RANDOLPH MARMADUKE 
 " Accountant, Morton House, New York City. "" 
 
 " There is nothing left for me to do but sur 
 render, " said Ola. 
 
 37
 
 CHAPTER III. 
 
 " Let me help you when and how I can. You will 
 need some one on whom to rely. " 
 
 " I found the way to bring you at last did I ? " 
 and a triumphant smile played around the mouth of 
 Ola's persecutor, as he saw her walk into the parlor 
 of the Morton House that night at nine. 
 
 " As briefly as possible, what do you want, Will 
 Fallon?" 
 
 " As briefly as possible, then, Mrs. Will Fallon, I 
 want my wife to receive and recognize her husband. " 
 The man put his hands into his pockets and looked at 
 the woman, happy that at last, he had her at his 
 mercy. 
 
 " We cannot talk here. Is it safe to go to your 
 room ? " said Ola. 
 
 " It is generally deemed good form for a wife and 
 husband to be together. In your case, however, as 
 you pose as a widow, there might be danger of 
 scandal ," said the man. 
 
 Ola remained silent and thoughtful for a few 
 moments. She was endeavoring to determine what to 
 do. That she must come to some understanding with 
 her husband was beyond doubt. But where could 
 they converse. The parlor of any hotel was unsafe; 
 she did not wish to take him to her flat, but the 
 
 38
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 weather was so cold, it was absolutely necessary to 
 hold the interview somewhere within doors. After 
 passing various places in review, in her mind, she 
 determined to go home ; so, arising she said, " Come 
 with me. " 
 
 Will Fallon made no comment whatever, but, 
 taking his hat in his hand, made a gesture for 
 her to lead on. They went into the street, got on an 
 uptown car, she paying the fare for two, and reached 
 her home. " Bronze " and Nell were both in their 
 own rooms, and Nora had gone to bed. Ola indi 
 cated a chair upon which her husband could be seat 
 ed if he would. He took another, thus intending to 
 demonstrate that he would not be dictated to, even 
 in the matter of seats. She removed her wraps and 
 gloves, pushed back a few rebellious black curls from 
 her temples and, looking at the man, she said : 
 
 " As to any reception of you in my home, or 
 recognition of you as my husband, I can assure you 
 nothing could be farther from my thoughts and in 
 tentions ; so, if that is the only object you had in 
 seeing me, your mission has been futile. If I can 
 effect a compromise with you by which I can have 
 peace, I am willing to listen. " 
 
 Now it was the man's turn to be thoughtful. He 
 looked around the room and murmured, as to himself : 
 " You are very nicely fixed. Your taste was always 
 superb, Ola. " 
 
 " Compliments or flatteries are in exceedingly bad 
 taste from you to me. Yes, I am comfortably fixed, 
 as you term it, and I have the indisputable right to 
 
 39
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 my possessions which every laborer has to what he 
 earns. I beg you to leave all such irrelevant trifles 
 out of the conversation, and tell me what you mean 
 by your persecution of me. " 
 
 Ola pressed her hands over her eyes, as though 
 she would shut out the view of the man before her, 
 who regarded her with such a look of replete satis 
 faction on his face. But, perhaps, a curiosity to read 
 in advance the words his tongue would speak by their 
 foreshadowing in the " expression of his counten 
 ance, " as Nora had expressed it, impelled her ; at any 
 rate, she withdrew her hands, and looked her whole 
 of contempt at him. This pleased him to the depths. 
 He laughed and said: 
 
 " Now, Ola, don't be so hard on a fellow ; just 
 think what it is to be the husband of such a fasci 
 nating creature as you are ? Why, I tell you, girl, that 
 would swell the head of an angel. " 
 
 " On that line of thought it need have no such 
 effect on you, " retorted Ola, bitterly. 
 
 The man laughed as if he enjoyed this immensely. 
 " I tell you, girl," he went on deliberately, " all those 
 attributes which make men wild after women, you 
 possess in full. I would not relinquish my place as 
 your husband, even though denounced and disowned 
 by you, for an assurance of a seat in the Kingdom of 
 Heaven for all eternity. " 
 
 " Of course, of course, you are my husband, we 
 will admit that; and that I have forfeited my right to 
 free myself from these chains I so loathe, is also ad 
 mitted. You can prove I married you but what of 
 
 40
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 it? Can you force me to live with you?" 
 
 " If I could, be very dead sure I would, " and his 
 eyes, as they travelled over his wife's symmetrical 
 form, illy concealed the lust of the male that gleamed 
 within them. 
 
 " Well, you cannot. So make an end of that 
 delusive hope. As I have already told you, there 
 is no torture which the inquisition ever imposed 
 which I would not endure rather than recognize you, 
 acknowledge our relations or receive you into my 
 home. If you want money, which I presume is your 
 real object, name the price of your silence. I shall 
 pay it if I can, you may be sure, " and having come to 
 a halt just before her husband in her pacing up and 
 down the room, she clutched the folds of her gown 
 just about the region of her heart, and bit her lip, as 
 though she suffered a slight spasm of pain. 
 
 All these indications of excitement in her seemed 
 but to add to the man's joy. A harsh laugh, which he 
 intended to be merry, rippled out of his lips as he 
 said, facetiously, "So you have wealth, have you? 
 Where does it come from? from this devoted brother 
 of yours, this Mr. Edward St. Claire?" 
 
 If Fallen had intended this remark to anger her, 
 he had evidently missed his mark. At the mention of 
 St. Claire there was a perceptible quieting of her 
 agitation, and she said sorrowfully, " You are not 
 capable of appreciating the affection I have for Ned 
 St. Claire. It would not hurt my feelings to have you 
 charge him, or any other man, to my account as a 
 lover. But know this: What money you get will 
 
 41
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 have to come from me. If I were the favorite of 
 Baron Rothschild, and it were necessary to buy 
 peace from you, a high figure, set by you, would spoil 
 your claims entirely. You can have the wages of my 
 labor, not the substantial assurance of the love of any 
 man for me. Ned St. Claire has no money. If he 
 had, I know I could command it, but you would die 
 of hunger and thirst before I would solicit a loan for 
 you. I will work for you, but I will not beg, nor 
 prostitute myself for you. " 
 
 " Good ! Good ! " said Will Fallen, " Was there 
 ever such another woman born into the world. Bravo! 
 my girl, bravo! and just to think you belong to me! 
 But I'm the lucky dog! the lucky dog, I tell you! Do 
 you know, I fancied the old time heroines were quite 
 gone out ; but there is a brilliant survival in you. What 
 a pity you have no children !" The man rubbed his 
 hands in glee, and looked at Ola in genuine admira 
 tion. Was this a proof that there is, in every human 
 being, a seed of good which, if rightly nurtured and 
 cared for, would bring forth fruit after it's own kind? 
 
 " Oh, have done with this nonsense, " said Ola 
 angrily. " You want money, of course. How much? " 
 
 " Yes, little wife, I need money ; unfortunately 
 the slippery stuff has a fashion of getting out of my 
 fingers. Just a little, any trifle you may have handy, 
 will do for this evening. I look eagerly forward to 
 the pleasure of seeing you again and often. " 
 
 " Be sensible, don't go too far. I shall not see 
 you. " She opened her pocket-book, and handed him 
 all there was in it. At this moment the bell 
 
 42
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 rang, and, knowing that Nora had retired, she had 
 started to go to the door at the end of the hall, when 
 she saw Nell come out of her room for the same pur 
 pose. 
 
 " Is that any one for you, Nell? " 
 
 " I should not be surprised ; I have expected Jack 
 all the evening. " 
 
 " Very well, " said Ola, and she went back into 
 her own part of the flat, leaving Nell to attend the 
 door. Fallen counted the money his wife had given 
 him, and with a pleased expression put it in his vest, 
 then gently patted the pocket on the outside. 
 
 When Ola returned to the room she said, " I wish 
 to say to you that I will respond to your calls upon 
 me for money, if I have it, as long as you keep out of 
 my sight. You know how to write, I believe. " 
 
 At this moment there was a sound of voices at 
 the door, and before she could prevent it, Ned St. 
 Claire was coming down the hall in obedience to 
 Nell's words : " The wrong man again ! Well, go in 
 the front room, and you, more lucky than I, will find 
 the right woman. I expected Jack. " 
 
 ' Nil desperandum,' he'll be here in five minutes. 
 He is trying to give Bob Clayton the slip now, two 
 blocks below, " and Ned St. Claire pushed back the 
 drapery from the hall door, and, with a brotherly 
 familiarity, had taken a couple of steps into the 
 parlor before he saw Fallen. Guiltily enough he hesi 
 tated, when he saw and recognized Ola's visitor. 
 
 But she had recovered her composure and said 
 right cheerily, " Come in, Ned, I am always glad to 
 
 43
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 see you, and I was never more so than at this 
 moment. " 
 
 It was an understood thing that St. Claire or 
 Jack Newman were always admitted, always wel 
 come. " Bronze " did not invariably see the Captain, 
 for she had others sub-rosa affairs; but Ola had 
 no secrets from Ned, or at least she had none before 
 the advent of Fallen; and Nell had none from Jack. 
 
 Ola looked at St. Claire and said, " Sit down, 
 Ned, I shall be at liberty in a moment, " then turn 
 ing to Fallen, she said : " Can I do anything more 
 for you, sir?" These were the words she spoke, but 
 in her voice and eyes was the command, " Go ; I 
 have endured enough for one evening. " 
 
 " Nothing, thank you, Madam, " and making his 
 wife an obsequious bow, and bending his head slight 
 ly to St. Claire, Fallen left the room. 
 
 There was an awkward and embarrassing silence, 
 in which Ola restlessly paced up and down the room. 
 Manlike, Ned let her get out of her predicament as 
 best she could. Finally she seated herself on the piano 
 stool with her back to the instrument, and said, " Ned, 
 if ever a woman felt thankful to the fates for any 
 favor, I have for the accident that gave me your 
 acquaintance and friendship." St Claire was about 
 to make a protesting remark when she silenced him 
 with a gesture. " You are a good listener, Ned. 
 Patience; don't make my task any harder. That man 
 who has just left me, is my husband. " 
 
 At this revelation, St. Claire was indeed struck 
 dumb. He could not have uttered a word to save 
 
 44
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 his soul, if he had felt himself possessed of such an 
 article, and of an overpowering desire to save it. 
 
 " I must tell you about it, Ned, and then you may 
 give me your friendship, or hold it from me, as you 
 see fit. My father was an only child of wealthy and 
 well-born people, whose pride lay in birth, intellectual 
 acquirements and culture; not in money. My mother 
 was also an only child with like predecessors and 
 prejudices. I was an only child. Everything that 
 money and love could bestow, were mine in childhood 
 and youth. The very means by which I earn my 
 living was learned as an accomplishment. In my 
 early maidenhood my mother died, leaving her for 
 tune to me, all to be legally surrendered to me on my 
 eighteenth birthday. Will Fallen and I were students 
 of the same professor. Fallen, as you may fancy, was 
 of Irish parentage, and a Roman Catholic. How I 
 hate the Irish and the Church of Rome ! That man 
 taught me everything wrong that I know. He wished 
 to marry me; my father naturally and properly re 
 fused. Fallen induced me to elope with him. I do 
 not think he would have done this had he not sup 
 posed my father would forgive and take us back. He 
 was mistaken. I loved the man, and made him absolute 
 monarch over all that was mine. In less than two 
 years he had gambled away my mother's fortune, 
 embezzled ten thousand dollars from the firm by 
 which he was employed, was arrested, tried, con 
 victed, and sentenced to four years in the state prison 
 a light sentence being given on account of his 
 
 45
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 youth. He served his time; I remained faithful to 
 him through all. 
 
 " When he came out of prison, I said, ' Now, Will, 
 we are both young, and we can work ; let us go away 
 from all we know, and begin life anew. If you will 
 be an honest man, I shall aid and encourage you : I 
 did not tell him I had no longer any love for him, but 
 I had not. There was an all-killing nausea within me 
 whenever I reflected that he was a thief. Had he been 
 a murderer, it would not have been half so hard to 
 bear but a thief, a betrayer of trust reposed within 
 him, and my husband. Ugh! It was sickening! 
 
 " Of course he promised everything, and we went 
 away together. In St. Louis he was arrested for steal 
 ing his mistress's diamonds to gamble away. While he 
 was serving this sentence, I came to New York and 
 assumed my own baptismal name in conjunction with 
 my mother's maiden name. He has found me, probably 
 by accident, but in point of fact, it makes no difference 
 how. I am now booked to supply him with what 
 money I can, and be disgraced by him in the end. 
 I value your friendship more than anything left in 
 my life, hence I advise you to drop out from the ranks 
 and save yourself from the deluge of disgrace which 
 is sure, soon or late, to fall on my defenceless head. " 
 
 " Poor girl ! poor girl ! poor girl ! " murmured St. 
 Claire again and again almost inaudibly. Then 
 rousing himself, he said quietly but with manly firm 
 ness, " Ola ! you have always called me your brother. 
 Is not a brother born for affliction? Let me help 
 you when and how I can ; you will need some one 
 
 46
 
 A STCRY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 on whom to rely. We won't talk any more about 
 this now, for you are over-excited. But remember al 
 ways, my girl, I am not your brother in name only, 
 but in every vicissitude which life can bring. " 
 
 Gradually St. Claire led the conversation along 
 another line of thought. He talked to her beautifully, 
 of the possibilities of her future. He encouraged her 
 dream of fame. When he left, it was late scandal 
 ously late but these artists did not mind trifles ; 
 their virtue needed no such hedge as convent hours. 
 Poor fellow, he thought he had given balm to her 
 sore heart. He was scarcely responsible for his 
 ignorance ; he should certainly be praised for his good 
 intentions. 
 
 47
 
 CHAPTER IV. 
 
 " Is friendship merely a term used to express an 
 abstract idea, possessing no concrete reality ? " 
 
 Fallon was not in the least troubled with modesty 
 in making his demands on his wife for money. Ola 
 was in possession of a moderate bank account, which 
 she had jealously guarded through all her vicissitudes 
 and which she had even increased from time to time 
 through great sacrifice and effort, that it might one 
 day be the means of freeing her from the bondage of 
 pot-boiling art, typified in her mind by "apoplectic 
 tomatoes. " This little hoard gradually found its way 
 to the gambling table, and with it went her hopes 
 and dreams of future study which was to lead to 
 higher and more satisfying accomplishments. Then 
 her jewelry disappeared. She worked harder than 
 ever, but was always short of money. She gave 
 up the studio, and did her work at home. Nora was 
 dismissed, to cut down expenses. " Bronze " and Nell 
 only roomed with her, and all three of them " faked 
 a meal at home " as Nell expressed it, or went out. 
 Gentlemen who were thoughtful enough to invite 
 the girls to dine, were at a premium. 
 
 The detestation which Ola had always felt for 
 her work was increased a hundred fold, since she could 
 not now even enjoy the price of her labor. As the 
 possibility to achieve anything in the way of fame, 
 diminished, her longing for it increased. There was no 
 price she would not have paid to accomplish her ob 
 ject. Her temperament and character, not her con 
 ceptions of morality, saved her from many a rash im- 
 
 48
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 pulse. She thought of all sorts of wild ventures. She 
 wanted to be loved, but as soon as a man told her 
 he loved her, she hated him. She believed nothing, 
 and with strange inconsistency, hoped everything. She 
 communed more and more with her dead whom she 
 thought of as dwelling among the stars, but did not 
 in the least believe that they were there. She became 
 more and more secretive and because of Will Fallon, 
 grew to distrust and hate all men. 
 
 Not even to Ned St. Claire did she tell the actual 
 state of her distresses. She knew the depth, sincerity, 
 and disinterestedness of Ned's affection for her, and 
 yet it was unsatisfactory. It was full of willingness, 
 but it lacked the element of power to do it's own 
 behests. She was forced to sustain and support 
 others, and she yearned to rest, to be sheltered and 
 protected, to lay aside care. 
 
 One evening she exclaimed to St. Claire, who 
 was tryin-g to encourage her, " Oh, Ned, I know you 
 are good. What a pity you are not rich ! All the 
 good Indians are dead Indians; all the good pale faces 
 are poor. " 
 
 " I think not, " said St. Claire. " There are plenty 
 of good men who have money; there are men who 
 would be just as glad to help you, and encourage 
 you, as I am and men who have the power but the 
 world is wide, and the congenial elements have got 
 widely separated. " 
 
 " Worse yet, there is no way to bring them to 
 gether, " said Ola sadly. 
 
 " That is a problem which would at least require 
 49
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 some reflection, before a conclusion could be arrived 
 at, " said St. Claire. 
 
 Ola laughed at him, and said, " What man by 
 taking thought thereof can make one hair white or 
 black. " 
 
 " That's a chestnut, Ola, and applicable only to 
 the times before hair dye was invented. If you will 
 preserve the spirit of the remark, but modify its 
 form, by saying 'add one cubit to his stature' , I'm 
 with you, but I draw the line at the hair dye. " 
 
 "Is it a hair line, Ned?" 
 
 " Now I am going home. When you begin to 
 pun, count me out, if you please." 
 
 "I'll stop," said Ola, "don't be in a hurry. I 
 hate myself and almost everybody else, except you. 
 I'll be good, don't leave me alone. " 
 
 " It's late, my girl, and I want you to get more 
 rest than you have been having of late. Do you 
 know that you look wretchedly, this Spring? " 
 
 " Somehow or other it is the way of that trickster, 
 Spring, to make us, as well as Mother Earth, look like 
 the breaking up of a hard winter. I feel 
 bad, Ned, bad enough, indeed. If I only had some 
 thing to live for, something to work for, something to 
 love, somebody to love me, I think I could brace up, 
 and support my husband with better grace. " 
 
 " The right one will come some time ; only keep 
 demanding him of the fates, " said Ned. There was 
 a slight intonation of sorrow in his voice, but Ola 
 did not notice it. She was strangely unobservant of 
 St. Claire. 
 
 50
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 Ned arose. " Are you determined to leave me, 
 Ned?" said Ola. 
 
 " For thy own best good, child, " said St. Claire, 
 and he put on a clergyman look. 
 
 " It won't be for my good. I shall rush pell 
 mell into all the bad I can think of. " 
 
 " Good night, Ola. Go to bed, my girl, and try 
 to get that tired, haunted look out of your eyes. " 
 
 When she was alone she fell to thinking. " I 
 wonder if any body ever gets what he wants. " 
 Heavens ! if I deemed it even among the possibili 
 ties, I would take courage and try. But what do I 
 want? Not a husband, for I have one now whom T 
 would gladly bestow upon any one who would take 
 him off my hands. A lover? I know several am 
 bitious ones in that line. A friend? Well, what is 
 Ned? I want just what I want, and I cannot tell 
 what that, is myself." Idly she scribbled on a piece of 
 paper, thinking the while of the lack of affinity which 
 every soul feels, and the improbability of ever find 
 ing it. Scarce knowing what she did, she wrote : 
 
 " Is friendship merely a term used to express an 
 abstract idea, possessing no concrete reality? Are 
 manhood, honor, and chivalry gone out with the 
 Table Round? or is there one who could, and would 
 give his friendship, in the noblest signification of the 
 term, to a sorrowing heart?" 
 
 She laughed at her own folly when she had 
 finished this. But her soul had made its call and the 
 listening Fates set about answering the demand.
 
 CHAPTER V. 
 The Prince, The Pirate, The Lieutenant. 
 
 The second Sunday in the month of May, that 
 year, opened upon the city of New York, and its 
 vicinity with a fine, drizzling rain and nasty, slushy 
 streets. They were indeed good people or, perhaps 
 the remark should be amended to say : they were in 
 deed, religous people who went to church through 
 that penetrating rain. Let us hope, if any of them 
 caught cold and died, they were ushered straight into 
 Heaven. 
 
 On this same Sunday morning in the month of 
 May, Harold, "Prince of the House of York," sat in the 
 reading room of the Hoffman House, perusing the 
 columns of a New York newspaper. Mr. York had 
 lived to be forty years of age, without ever for one 
 moment having suspected that he was a prince. None 
 of his ancestors, near or remote, had ever suspected 
 that they were, or could be, ancestors of a prince to 
 the manner born. 
 
 No, York did not know that he was a prince. He 
 knew, or thought he knew, that he was a broker 
 doing business on Wall Street; that he was forty 
 years of age, five-feet-six in height, and in weight 
 about one-hundred-and-thirty pounds; that he had 
 brown hair, blue eyes and even, white teeth. 
 
 52
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 He had never regarded himself as possessed of any 
 special distinction in the way of looks, education, 
 wealth, or good or bad repute. " Just ordinary," would 
 have been his summary of himself, had he been asked 
 to make one. 
 
 A genuine, thorough New Yorker, he had ex 
 perimented in almost everything, from horse jockey 
 ing to Wall Street. When he was young, very young, 
 he married the woman he loved; one of his friends 
 taught him the value of masculine friendship and 
 the frailty of women. Since that bitter awakening, 
 no thought of love had ever entered his mind. He 
 lived on excitement of one kind or another. His 
 transactions were commercial, all of them. He 
 bought what he wanted in the open mart, and paid 
 for it ; in money, if money were the exchange demand 
 ed; in his vitality, when he stood over the ticker. 
 Probably no man in the city of New York indulged 
 less in sentimentality than Harold York; and yet all 
 the noblest endowments which a soul may possess, 
 slumbered within him, awaiting only the right voice 
 to awaken them from their lethargy. 
 
 He read the Sunday paper. As he was a broker, 
 he first turned to the stock and bond reports. Of 
 course he knew all the quotations of the day before. 
 He had known them almost from the instant they 
 were made. But now all was quiet and he could read, 
 and so perhaps amend some hasty opinion of the day 
 before. Every one has a fashion of his own in read 
 ing the daily papers, and it needs no conjurer to make 
 
 53
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 a pretty shrewd guess as to the taste and habits of the 
 reader, if one watches him in his perusal. 
 
 Mr. York read the paper, but was not especially 
 entertained. The morning was not conducive to 
 complacency. He took a pencil out of his pocket, and 
 marked some advertisements of bonds for sale. Then 
 he was at a loss what to do. He walked to the plate- 
 glass windows and looked out at the drizzling rain, 
 and the mud on Broadway. But there was a little 
 fiend jabbing a probe into his memory. After a few 
 moments reflection, evidently having arrived at a de 
 cision, he felt better. Even the rain seemed inclined 
 to stop and there was an occasional clear spot on the 
 flagstones. 
 
 "I'll do it to-morrow, as sure as my name is 
 Harold York/' he said with decision as he walked 
 away from the window. 
 
 The next day when Mr. York reached his office, 
 he answered some advertisements of "bonds to sell.*' 
 This was easy work; but what should be the form 
 of the next letter he intended to write, he did not 
 know. Some one came into the office and distracted his 
 attention by asking a question relative to business. 
 He answered politely, but he felt vexed; and when 
 the door was closed on the retreating friend he arose 
 and locked it. That eased-up matters a little, and he 
 wrote : 
 "Mrs. Ola Del, 
 
 " My dear Madam : 
 
 " You may be astonished at this letter, because 
 we are so slightly acquainted, but you cannot be 
 
 54
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 offended, for no man ever meant more in truth and 
 honor what I now mean when I say that I want you 
 to be my wife. 
 
 " On receipt of your reply, whatever it may be, 
 I will write more at length. 
 
 " Yours respectfully, 
 
 "H. S. YORK." 
 
 Then he read his letter over two or three times. 
 He could not help smiling, and he said to himself, 
 " This is a pretty business for you, Harold York. So 
 you want to marry again, do you? " At the final read 
 ing of his epistle, a look of satisfaction settled over 
 his features. " I guess that's about the checker. Yes, 
 that will do," and sealing it with care, he picked up 
 his other letters and walked out of the office to de 
 posit it with his own hand. At this juncture of 
 affairs he attempted to dismiss the whole matter from 
 his mind, and simply await developments. But a good 
 spirit had taken possession of the long deserted 
 chamber of his heart, and from that hour, those senti 
 ments from which spring chivalrous actions and 
 noble deeds, spoke their protest against the long 
 bondage in which he had kept them. From that hour 
 he was a better and a happier man. 
 
 The Pirate. 
 
 On the Bowery, near Bond Street, there is a 
 picture store. You might find a genuine " old 
 master " there, but the chances are, that your search 
 
 55
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 would be rewarded by a view of certain dingy veter 
 ans of the trade the "Virgin, " the " Sacred 
 Heart of Jesus, " the " Stations of the Cross, " and 
 such-like cullings, grimy enough to be " old," but 
 scarcely to be reckoned as "masterly." In this dirty, 
 dusty, disorderly shop, on that same Sunday morn 
 ing, sat Cyrus W. Bartlett, the proprietor. Every 
 thing was quiet in his business. Art had seemed to 
 be in little or no demand for some weeks. Mr. 
 Bartlett's woman Friday, who served him in almost 
 every possible capacity, had just taker her slatternly 
 person out of the store, to go up stairs and prepare 
 for their midday meal the odoriferous food, of which 
 the poor and vulgar seem to be so fond. Left alone, 
 the proprietor of this art establishment fell to musing. 
 The man's soul was stirred with ambition. He 
 was moderately rich, and he had gathered his gold 
 by putting one penny on top of another, and denying 
 himself every deniable comfort. A luxury, in his 
 most extravagant moments, he never even dreamed 
 of. He had lived cheaply; his wife had worked hard 
 all her life, starving and saving and delving, and 
 had paid the usual penalty of this folly and sin, by 
 dying when her husband had accumulated enough to 
 keep her in comfort. He missed her; but when his 
 thoughts wandered toward matrimony, his fancy 
 pictured a sweet, gracious creature, with dainty ap 
 parel, soft white hands and refined manners, like some 
 of the artists from whom he bought pictures for al 
 most nothing, to sell again to one or another of his 
 wealthy customers at a royal profit. 
 
 56
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 Did he ever reflect what would be the feeling 
 of a cultured, refined woman, if he were to propose 
 marriage to her? Not at all; the conceit which goes 
 with human nature, especially with ignorance, saw 
 no incongruity in a marriage between himself and 
 any woman whom he might fancy. The man was 
 fifty-five years old, six-feet-two in height, weighed 
 about two-hundred-and-fifteen pounds, and was well 
 proportioned. His hair was thin and grey and his face 
 clean-shaven and much marred by the red marks of 
 salt-rheum. His cat-green eyes were round and snake- 
 like; his lips, thin and sensual ; his gums, red and swol 
 len ; his teeth, decayed and black some of them loose 
 and all of them snaggy. His feet were large, flat and 
 " niggery. " The only redeeming member of his 
 whole anatomy was. his hand, which, though large, 
 was white and beautiful in shape. Nature, and Nature 
 alone, was to be praised for this, for no manicure 
 had ever manipulated those fingers. 
 
 Drudging and grubbing and delving and saving 
 had been the order of his life. Not one hour of 
 romance had he ever enjoyed. Where to buy cheap 
 and where to sell at a big profit, had been his care, 
 and how to educate his two daughters at the least pos 
 sible expense. He loved them ; oh, yes, of course he 
 did ; but they must not cost him too much money ; he 
 would need this fund when he grew old. His clothes 
 were shoddy and "kneey" and "elbowy" and shiny. He 
 blacked his own boots, when they were blacked. 
 
 Ah, well ! there he sat, in his dirty store, think 
 ing, hoping, dreaming. He was moved with a desire to 
 
 57
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 shake loose from all the shackles of his past, and 
 live a little before he died. Yes, he would. He would 
 do it at once. He would write to Her. He felt hur 
 ried ; he would not like to have that slattern of a 
 housekeeper of his come in and catch him at this 
 folly. He found half a sheet of cheap paper and 
 wrote : 
 
 " Sunday noon, May Qth. 
 " Dearest Lady. 
 
 " I hope to be excused for writing to you. You 
 and I has done a good lot of business, but maybe you 
 don't know that I am a widower 30 months now, and 
 alone. I am in the Blank Art Store here on the 
 Bowery 29 years steady. I have a room over the store 
 here free. But I long to be in my Own Room Again 
 with a loveing mate to have it for her Own Room to. 
 I have 2 children (Girls) but they are away of to 
 high School all the time down east where I was born, 
 and no trouble to no one. I have no one to Interfere 
 or say Yes or No, to it. I hope to hear from My 
 Dear Girl at once, my Pet as I hope it will come. I 
 am never sick, no money for doctors, but always 
 pleasant and good natured and agreeable and its the 
 same with you and I want to find a companion to 
 pass my life with, who knows. Write Dearest at 
 once. 
 
 " CYRUS W. BARTLETT. 
 
 " P. S. From your would be good True Friend. " 
 58
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 Mr. Bartlett was proud of that letter. He ad 
 dressed an envelope, using a lead pencil ; crossed the 
 "t" in City, with a grand flourish. He put a stamp on 
 the left-hand corner of the envelope, on the bias, 
 straightened up his six-feet two and started for the 
 nearest post-box. Then he came back to the monotony 
 of his life, enjoyed the smell of the cabbage which came 
 floating in thick currents down the stairs, and fell to 
 passing in review the various studios and other places 
 where he might pick up a bargain, and make some 
 more money at the expense of a human being whose 
 shoe-latchets he was not worthy to unloose. Nor 
 would he, at the moment, have scrupled to rob Ola 
 Del, just as he had done many times before. 
 
 The Lieutenant. 
 
 On the platform of a railroad station in the City 
 of Washington, D. C., on that same Sunday morning, 
 stood Lieutenant Adrien Benners, an officer in the 
 United States Navy, serving on the Revenue Cutter 
 " Grant, " and just now returning from a 
 visit to the home of his childhood in Virginia. It 
 was rainy and nasty and slushy in Washington, also, 
 that morning; but no such trifle as rain and slush af 
 fected the Lieutenant. To him, life was worth living. 
 There was but an instant to spare before his train 
 would pull out. He bought a newspaper, boarded the 
 cars and in a few moments was steaming towards New 
 York, bringing with him his youth, his beauty, his 
 joy of life, and his sweet little " Southern Confederacy'' 
 
 59
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 accent. Be it understood that Lieutenant Benners 
 was never at a loss for ladies to caress him and love 
 him and spoil him. In whatever port his ship weighed 
 anchor, there the gods and the goddesses were good 
 to him. Therefore it was not the fear of any lack of 
 amusement (for that was the depth of the passion of 
 love with him) which prompted him to think pleas 
 antly of Ola Del. It was simply that he was alone, and 
 had time to think. There was a certain charm in the 
 woman which he did not find in others; a charm 
 which Well, he was not in the least afraid to ask. 
 That was his privilege. " When I reach the ' Grant,' " 
 said he to himself, " I will write her. " 
 
 Arrived at his vessel he was received by his 
 brother-officers in various ways. Lewes shook the 
 Lieutenant's hand cordially, and expressed, in every 
 way, his pleasure at having his chum back again. 
 They two were "off" the same day and evening, and 
 were the best of friends. Cameron was quite effusive 
 in his reception, but the Lieutenant had his doubts 
 about Cameron's sincerity. A favorite topic with 
 Cameron was the fidelity and honor due from one 
 gentleman to another in matters of love. With marked 
 emphasis he assured his friends on board the " Grant, " 
 that it was only necessary for him to know that one 
 of his brother-officers had a previous claim upon any 
 woman's affections that would be enough to prevent 
 him forever from wooing there. But Ben 
 ners felt uneasy. He thought the gentleman " did 
 protest too much. " The Lieutenant was obliged to 
 admit that Cameron was handsome, even handsomer 
 
 6c
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 than he was himself. As a principle, he knew thor 
 oughly well that honor nearly always goes down 
 when attacked by selfishness; so he took precious 
 good care not to present Cameron to any of his 
 sweethearts and he kept as dark as possible about 
 what he did. 
 
 Lewes clasped Benners' hand like a brother, and 
 the Lieutenant felt glad that he had such a comrade. 
 Cameron gushed, and used a multitude of adjectives. 
 Captain Calhoun received the Lieutenant with the 
 dignity due himself, as the superior officer. In his 
 heart, the Captain nursed the wound and fanned the 
 flame of an old grudge against Benners. It was 
 " that affair at Newport. " There was a woman 
 whom the Captain really loved. One evening when 
 the " Grant " was at Newport the Captain called upon 
 this woman. She was out; so the servant told him. 
 This hurt the " True Heart, " because he had written 
 her that he was coming. Not knowing what to do with 
 himself, he strolled into the theatre. There was his 
 sweetheart with Lieutenant Benners, and a love- 
 light was on her face a love-light the like of which 
 he had never been able to call there. He cursed his 
 folly for gratifying the woman's curiosity to see the 
 " Grant " and her officers, and swore he would 
 commit that folly no more; moreover, he would bide 
 his time and one of these days he would even-up 
 matters with his handsome Lieutenant. 
 
 The Captain returned to his sweetheart; he could 
 not help it ; he loved her ; and that was where she had 
 the best of him. His dignity was safe ; for, fortunate- 
 
 61
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 ly, neither the woman nor the Lieutenant had seen 
 him. The next time the Captain saw his lady-love he 
 asked her why she had gone out when she expected 
 him. 
 
 " My sister's child is ill," she replied quite easily, 
 " and I went to watch by the little fellow and so re 
 lieve his mother. " 
 
 This was perfectly true, for Lieutenant Benners 
 had taken her there from the play. But the Captain 
 did not know it, and he said to himself, " She not 
 alone deceives me but she lies about it. " 
 
 The woman had one of those elastic consciences 
 which find justification for considering a statement 
 above the average, if half true. She said : " Half true is 
 more than I get from him;" in which she wronged 
 the Captain greatly. He might, at times, have acted 
 like a grouchy old bear, but he was an honest-hearted, 
 true lover. 
 
 That was the Newport affair, and it furnished 
 additional incentive for the Captain always to pay 
 due respect to the superiority .of his rank. Hence 
 he received Lieutenant Benners politely but only 
 politely nothing more. All congratulations and wel 
 comes being over, Benners went to his room, opened 
 his desk and wrote : 
 
 "Ola: 
 
 " May I see you Tuesday afternoon or evening? 
 
 "ADRIEN." 
 
 62
 
 CHAPTER VI. 
 A Shadow is Cast. 
 
 These letters from the " Prince, " the " Pirate, " 
 and the Lieutenant, Ola received by the first delivery 
 of mail on Monday morning. To the " Pirate's " letter 
 she paid no attention whatever. To the Lieutenant 
 she wrote one word, " Yes. " To Mr. York : 
 
 " If you should marry, you have my best wishes 
 that you may draw a prize. I shall never marry; I 
 have no heart to give. I would not deceive a good 
 man ; nor would I wed, if I knew it, one who could 
 be content without all the best love of his wife. The 
 first and foremost duty of everyone is to be honest. 
 When a woman becomes a wife, she takes upon her 
 self duties .and obligations. Those duties are not re 
 stricted to her holding in absolute respect the name 
 she bears; but she should give to her husband a heart 
 which holds his interests, his image and a desire to 
 merge her entire being into his. This is not in my 
 power to do. The love of a good man would be 
 comfort, a great comfort to me. But if my husband 
 could give me, in himself, the concentration of all 
 conceivable merit, the wealth and luxuries of a 
 queen, without the care and responsibility of royalty, 
 and should say to me : ' My Love, I cannot share you 
 with the public ; you must cast your brush aside and 
 think no more of Fame, ' I would not accept his 
 
 6.3
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 offer, for I know I could not comply with its condi 
 tions. Were I ever so anxious to do so, I positively 
 could not ; so I would not try. 
 
 " The work I am doing now, I do because I 
 must; but it is exceedingly uncongenial and distaste 
 ful to me. I spend about all my time, in which I am 
 not engaged in making ' apoplectic tomatoes, ' (that 
 means any disagreeable work,) in melancholy re 
 flections upon what I must, and what I would like 
 to do. I have no taste for dissipation ; my very nature 
 rebels against anything that is low and common, and 
 there seems to be no immediate prospect of my being 
 in a position to do the thing which would give a zest 
 to my life. 
 
 " This shadow was cast in the sunshine (some 
 are not). Let it linger by your side. I do not know 
 if the sun will ever shine on a love between you and 
 me or not ; but at any rate I send the shadow of your 
 friend, 
 
 " OLA DEL. " 
 ***** 
 
 " Poor little thing:" York said to himself, as he 
 looked at the photograph she had enclosed. " She 
 shall have what her heart craves so much. She shall ! 
 I am longing for congenial companionship, where love, 
 affection and respect will be returned. If you can re 
 turn a part of the love I am capable of bestowing on 
 you, I will make you the happiest little woman in 
 creation. Since I came to love you, I have no desire 
 to gamble on the stock exchange. What I have 
 wanted and needed for vears, darling, is some one 
 
 64
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 like you to keep me straight. " Thus did Harold York 
 talk to the dumb shadow of Ola Del. Then he laugh 
 ed, in no way discouraged at her refusal to marry him. 
 
 " I play every game I do play, to win. I will 
 make her independent of the pirates of art, or of any 
 one else who may be in her way of success. I love 
 her; and in my love it seems as if I have been born 
 again. I now feel that I have a care, and that is 
 Ola Del. I must close up those things which can 
 be closed up and will bring me immediate funds. I 
 am a money-maker and I will convince her of the fact; 
 for I not alone love her but I worship her, and I will 
 prove to her that I can and will be her friend, her 
 patron, her brother; and that she will not have to 
 display an affection for me which she does not, nor 
 cannot feel, in order to claim all that is mine or ever 
 may become mine ; for I am forever devotedly hers. " 
 
 In his own way and at his own times Mr. York 
 gave Ola -to understand that to wed or not to wed 
 was not the vital point with him. To be her friend, 
 her patron, her brother, to place at her command him 
 self and his worldly all, would be, in itself, more than 
 ample happiness for him. Unable to arrive at any 
 conclusion with reference to Mr. York, Ola decided 
 to consult Ned St. Claire. 
 
 " The only way I can measure the man, is to 
 look for his object. If Mr. York were trifling with 
 you, I think he would have shown it long ago. I 
 know you have little enough faith in a germ of good 
 ness in man ; but there is such a thing, my girl ; and 
 I am of the impression that in Harold York you have 
 
 65
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 drawn a prize. At any rate, no woman that ever 
 lived knows better how to take care of herself than 
 you do. " 
 
 But Ola did not talk to Ned about Lieutenant 
 Benners, nor tell him that on the following evening 
 her heart would listen for a certain ring at her bell. 
 " Even to the best of brothers all should not be told, " 
 she said to herself. And when that " following 
 evening " was at hand and with it the Lieutenant, 
 if she was happy, or why, she could not say. 
 
 He took from his pocket and presented to her 
 a photograph of himself taken in uniform a very 
 poor one, he said. Then he sihowed her another of 
 two beautiful young women; they were his sisters in 
 Virginia. He had just returned from a visit there, he 
 explained. She looked at the picture carefully; there 
 was the same partrician look in the photograph of the 
 girls, that so marked their brother; for even a photo 
 graph will betray the character and disposition of the 
 original, if you scan it closely enough. While she 
 gazed, she listened to what he was saying about his 
 sisters. 
 
 He described them as being typical Southern 
 girls, beautiful and lovable. He spoke of how happy 
 they and the rest of his family had been at having 
 him with them again in the old home, and how re 
 luctant they were to have him leave. . 
 
 " You love them very much, do you not? " said 
 Ola. 
 
 " Oh, yes, he replied. " I love them. I am sure 
 I would be willing to suffer anything, if by so doing 
 
 66
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 they would be made happy. Yes, I love them. In 
 deed I love them. " 
 
 A look of boyish, ingenuous love shone from his 
 beautiful eyes, as he called up the picture of that 
 home life in Virginia. All the intrigues of the naval 
 officer, Banners, were for the instant banished; even 
 Ola, at that moment, was sacred to him, because she, 
 like his mother and sisters, was a woman. The nobler 
 traits of the man were reflected in his face and eyes. 
 
 Then " Bronze " and Jack came into the parlor ; 
 Jack was waiting for Nell, and they were going out 
 for ices, for it was hot, awfully hot. Ned St. Claire 
 also dropped in before the evening was over, an occur- 
 rance which, in fact was his almost nightly habit. 
 With the exception of Nell and Jack, who were at all 
 times sufficient for each other, there were uncomfor 
 table feelings in the breasts of all, that evening. 
 
 " Bronze " was dying for a flirtation with Lieu 
 tenant Benners, but she was a little, though only just 
 a little, too honest to begin any intrigue right under 
 Ola's eyes. Ned St. Claire never did like that " navy 
 chap, " and he always showed it plainly enough. Ned 
 was jealous of Ola's confidence in him and her depend 
 ence upon his judgment. Sure that in this affair there 
 was something she was keeping secret, he, as naturally 
 as it was unjust, vented his wrath upon Lieutenant 
 Benners. Ned felt " de trop" that night, and neither 
 blandishments nor badgering could induce him .to 
 stay. " Bronze " also knew that she was one too 
 many, but she would have given the moon if she 
 could have manufactured an excuse for remaining; she 
 
 67
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 could not find one however, so she gracefully said her 
 good nights, and the Lieutenant and Ola were alone. 
 About eleven o'clock, having expressed his de 
 light at seeing her again, and his desire to place him 
 self at her disposal for any amusement the City of 
 New York offered, he was gone; and she was alone. 
 Restlessly happy, restlessly unhappy, her fingers 
 drew forth from the piano the plaintive strains of the 
 old plantation melody, " Way Down Upon The 
 Suwannee River." Had Lieutenant Benners' musical 
 voice left an echo in her heart? Was there a spirit 
 from the voluptuous South hovering near her? A 
 spirit that wooed her consent to be good to this son of 
 
 theF. F. Vs? 
 
 ***** 
 
 Each day brought its drudgery of uncongenial 
 work to Ola. Each week she knew she must, starving 
 or fasting, send his hush money to Will Fallen. 
 There were, in addition to occasional calls, three or 
 four letters every week from her " Prince, " as she 
 had come to call Harold York. Upon just two strings 
 was his harmony played : the financial enterprises he 
 had in hand, and his love for her; and every letter 
 from him inspired her with courage, patience, hope. 
 All that was ideal and romatic within her responded 
 to his call. Thus were these two people in love with 
 each other in a most beautiful and satisfactory way. 
 He was in love with a creature of his own imagina 
 tion. Perhaps all are, while Love remains Love that 
 is, before it evolves into Congeniality, Respect, Friend 
 ship. She was in love with the beauty and purity of 
 
 68
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 his sentiments towards her. No language can ex 
 press what the words, " My Prince, " meant to her. 
 
 When she sat by her window and looked up at 
 the stars, thinking of her beloved dead of those who, 
 if in the universe, were freed from the trammels of 
 the flesh, she grouped the " Prince " among those 
 pure ones. She had ceased even to think of him ex 
 cept in some idealized, purified way; and, naturally 
 enough,- her own conduct towards him was a reflex 
 of her nobler self her spiritual, sexless self. In all 
 this big world, he was the one creature of the male 
 creation which the hand of God had ever formed that 
 was free from impurities; and he belonged to her; 
 was living for her, working for her, and she was 1 thank 
 ful for it. Why? she never asked. 
 
 Every woman's nature contains a strong element 
 of hero-worship and this in Ola went forth in all its 
 force to Harold York. 
 
 Meanwhile each week if the " Grant " were in 
 New York, also brought Lieutenant Benners once or 
 twice. He was a man skilled in all those arts by which 
 women are won, and which seldom, if ever, are the 
 tokens of a sincere and loyal nature. He knew that 
 a single flower, taken from his own button-hole and 
 pinned on a woman's bosom by his hand, while he 
 made proper use of his glorious eyes, would insure 
 him forgiveness if he, naughtily enough, pressed his 
 own red lips to hers. He knew that when he said: 
 " How pretty your dress is, dear ! Stand up and let 
 me see how it fits and how the skirt hangs, " and then 
 looked his approval as only he knew how to look, 
 
 69
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 he would surely be forgiven if, yielding to the temp 
 tation, he were to draw that beautiful dress up close 
 to him. He knew it. He had tried it many, many 
 times with women in every port where his ship 
 weighed anchor ; and he had never known it to fail. 
 
 In the art of making conquests among women, 
 Lieutenant Benners was a past master. This art is 
 not difficult to learn, is not worth anything after it 
 has been learned. It is better for any man to be sin 
 cere, and to win, in an honorable way, the love of one 
 good woman, and then to merge his interests in life 
 with hers, than to make conquests by subtilties; to 
 enjoy a delirium for a time, and at the end to feel that 
 with the exception of his own mother, no woman, 
 however much she may have yielded to his arts, has 
 ever really loved him loved him with a love that 
 means admiration and spells self-sacrifice. 
 
 That conscience of Lieutenant Benners, was not 
 primed against conquest. He carried his sea-swagger 
 on land with him, accommodated himself to the 
 motion of waves, where there were no waves, and his 
 conscience leaned to the larboard or starboard, just in 
 accordance with the side upon which opportunity 
 offered. 
 
 He and Ola were standing one evening by the 
 open window, looking up at the stars. As the night 
 was hot, the gas had not been lighted and a fitful 
 sluggish little breeze that now and then stirred the 
 draperies at the windows and the wayward curls at 
 Ola's white throat became dangerously languorous. 
 
 She herself looked very sweet and mysterious as 
 70
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 the light from the street lamp below caught, now and 
 then the clinging folds of her India silk gown. Yes, 
 there is no denying it, the way her gown clung here 
 and there in its alluring softness, proved it an artful 
 ally of the daring Lieutenant's too ready impulses. As 
 though unconscious of his act, he rested his hand 
 lightly upon her rounded shoulder, as he spoke of the 
 beauty of the night. 
 
 She made no remark but, with an apparent uncon 
 sciousness equal to his, crossed to the other window 
 and sat down in a large arm-chair. But that provoking 
 gown of hers, true to the contract it had evidently 
 made with the inner forces of the man, settled here and 
 there anew, and the light from the street half con 
 cealed and vaguely revealed, as dim lights will. 
 
 But the Lieutenant, not to be thwarted in the first 
 step of a game he knew so well, paced non 
 chalantly up and down the room a few times and 
 then, without appearing to do so with intent, he 
 again stood beside her. 
 
 " How glorious the stars are and how clear the 
 sky! " he said. " It reminds 1 me of a night in Asia" and 
 then, as she remained silent, he gently sank down 
 until he was sitting on the broad arm of her chair, and 
 as gently laid his arm along the back just above her 
 shapely head. After a pause he bent and kissed her 
 forehead where her hair rested softest against her 
 white skin. 
 
 She did not move or resent it, but the Lieutenant 
 was judicious; he had gone far enough for one night 
 and he soon after took his leave. 
 
 71 .
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 If the Lieutenant had told the " Banker " or Ned 
 St. Claire or Jack or any man of her acquaintance 
 what he had done and how this woman had received 
 it, they would simply have believed him a lying, 
 bragging rascal. But facts are stubborn things. 
 
 At their next meeting he pinned some of the car 
 nations he had brought upon her white dress. 
 
 " That is very pretty, dear, he said, drawing her 
 down beside him on a tete-a-tete. It is a beautiful 
 contrast with your white dress ; only there should be 
 more green leaves. I will remember that the next 
 time. " 
 
 Then he leaned down and kissed her lips. She 
 did not move nor speak. He took her hand, and, bend 
 ing his head low, he drew her arm around his neck 
 and rested his head on her shoulder. 
 
 He did not attempt any further endearments on 
 that occasion. 
 
 The next time he came, however, without ado, he 
 clasped her closely to him, and talked to her in that 
 soft, musical voice ; and with his sweet, Southern 
 accent he called her a "dear girl ;" and said a great 
 deal about how happy he would be if he knew that 
 she loved him ; if he could feel, when his ship was 
 entering port, that she would be glad to see him. 
 
 " It never stormed too hard for me to go ashore 
 if I knew there was someone there who was waiting 
 for me, dear. " 
 
 He assumed a trifle of jealousy of Ned St. Claire, 
 and she laughed at him. He was not jealous in the 
 
 72
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 least, but he thought that it would please her, if she 
 
 thought him so. 
 
 ***** 
 
 Ola and the Lieutenant had been to a concert, 
 and they stood on the steps of the house in which she 
 lived. She had never permitted her escorts to go up 
 stairs with her after a performance, nor had she any 
 intention of letting him, now; but he looked at her 
 with those glorious eyes, and said, " Must I kiss you 
 good-night here, dear?" 
 
 " Don't you want to? " 
 
 " Not if I may do better. I would like to sit 
 and talk with you a while. I think we leave to-mor 
 row or the day following, to be gone for a week or 
 so. That is a long time to wait. " 
 
 She gave him the latch key, he opened the door 
 and they went up stairs together. There he drew 
 the pins out of her hat and took it off. He was as 
 skilled with woman's toggery as if he had worn it all 
 his life. 
 
 "Shall you miss me when I am gone, dear?" 
 
 " I am afraid I shall. " 
 
 " Oh, now, don't say you are afraid." 
 
 Again he drew her arm around his neck, rested 
 his head on her shoulder, and talked soft and low ; 
 talked about the pleasure of being loved. He wasn't 
 much given to speak of loving; he dwelt ever upon 
 being loved. 
 
 " If I knew you loved me, I should think of it all 
 the time I am gone," he said. 
 
 "Well, don't you know it?" she said as she 
 73
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 gently stroked his face with her hand; he, the while, 
 looking at her, looking into her eyes, his own aglow 
 with passion. 
 
 " Not yet," he said. And he laughed, and drew 
 her down to his lips and held her there. 
 
 All power to think or act, left her. She had no 
 trouble of any kind. She had no ambition ; there was 
 no vampire of a husband preying upon her vitality ; 
 she had no self-respect to lose; there was no grand, 
 noble, Prince of the House of York who loved her with 
 a purity and beauty unequalled. All these were ban 
 ished as by a magician's wand. One motive, and one 
 only, existed for her. She was charged with one all- 
 consuming desire. She was just as much subject to 
 him, just as much a part of him, as was his own 
 right hand, and responded as naturally to his will. The 
 only difference between her and any member of his 
 body that moved at his command, was that there re 
 mained with her an unreasoning joy and happiness. 
 She did not wish to please him, she had no desire. 
 The words " desire " and " wish, " signify a measure 
 of dissatisfaction; but she was happy with an animal 
 happiness that knows not wish, knows not desire, 
 
 knows not thought. 
 
 ****** 
 
 The "Grant" sailed two days later; but before 
 he left port, Lieutenant Benners wrote to Ola: 
 
 " Sunday, 6:30 p. m. 
 " Dear Friend : 
 
 " Only a few lines to say I arrived home all right, 
 74
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 and feel first rate after my morning sleep. Trust you 
 feel as well. 
 
 " This morning, for the first time in many months, 
 I saw the day break ; and, as well as I like my bed, it 
 was worth being up early to see. Did you sleep all 
 day, or were you up as usual? I had breakfast at 
 eight, then went to bed for a second time. 
 
 " In my room it is almost dark, I can scarcely see 
 how to write ; but this will let you know that I am 
 thinking of you, and would like to be where you are; 
 now, more than ever. Good bye until I return. Take 
 good care of yourself, and believe me always your 
 friend, 
 
 " A. C. B. "
 
 CHAPTER VII. 
 
 " To lighten the load she threw her handsome Lieu 
 tenant over-board." 
 
 " That Revenue Cutter ' Grant ' must be a 
 wonderful reducer of temperature," thought Ola. 
 " Who would ever imagine that letter to be from an 
 ardent lover? He was a lover day before yesterday; 
 and, after a fashion, quite an ardent one ; to-day he is 
 an officer in the Navy. Perhaps there is as much dif 
 ference between the two, as there is between this let 
 ter and the one I expected. " 
 
 Now she could think, now she could reason, now 
 she could hate him, and loathe and despise herself. 
 By her own act, she was placed in that most uncom 
 fortable of all uncomfortable positions she could not 
 respect herself. 
 
 In view of the position of affairs betwen herself 
 and Will Fallon, with the knowledge that by his death 
 only, could she marry again ; she would have felt 
 justified in even the " unauthorized " love of a good 
 man, but Lieutenant Benners did not love her, and 
 she knew it thoroughly well. In fact, the Lieutenant 
 talked little of love. He called her " Dear " and " You 
 dear girl. " He was mindful of those little niceties 
 which a gentleman extends to any woman; but for 
 an unmistakable indication of love, she looked in vain. 
 
 During this time she was agitated by strange 
 emotions. She subjected everything the Lieutenant 
 
 76
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 said or did, to microscopic inspection. And the 
 microscope, true to its nature, revealed horrors. If 
 he came often, he was good to himself. If he remained 
 away a long time, he was untrue to her. (She had 
 sworn him to fidelity. He took the oath readily 
 enough, and repudiated it in less than a week.) 
 
 When he was not with her, and she had viewed 
 him for a long time under the microscope, she so 
 hated him, that she wished the " Grant " and every 
 soul on board, would go down to the bottom of the 
 sea; if he called that very evening, and looking at 
 her with his glorious eyes, and drew her up to him, 
 and said, " You dear girl, I am so glad to see you. 
 I should have been awfully disappointed if there had 
 been no light in the window," she forgave him every 
 thing. (The light in the window was her beacon to 
 guide him to her, she had told him, and he looked 
 for it as soon as he turned the corner.) As soon as 
 he saw -her, and caressed her, and talked to her, he 
 transformed her into an unthinking, happy being. At 
 such times there was no crime on earth she would 
 not have committed for him. She would have de 
 ceived the very elect of heaven for him. 
 
 When he was with her, she put her bare arms 
 around his neck, and begged him to come again soon. 
 When he was away, she wished he would never come. 
 
 At each such revulsion of feeling she instinctively 
 flew to the " Prince " for comfort. She poured out 
 all her aching heart to him ; she talked of deeds that 
 live forever in the memory of men; of work, of study, 
 of art. 
 
 77
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 From that source she seemed to draw holy in 
 spirations. Her words to the " Prince " bore the 
 spirit of the psalms of the heart-broken old King 
 David ; those to the Lieutenant, the voluptuous amo 
 rousness of his son Solomon. To the " Prince " she 
 pleaded, " Satisfy my longing soul, and fill my hun 
 gry soul with goodness, " to the Lieutenant, " Thou 
 hast ravished my heart with thine eyes. His left hand 
 should be under my head, and his right hand should 
 embrace me. " " Set me as a seal upon thine heart, as 
 a seal upon thine arm : for love is strong as death. " 
 
 " Bronze " had made an impression upon Lieu 
 tenant Benners; he seemed glad when she was in the 
 parlor, and frequently asked for her. He was just as 
 apt, or more apt to give " Bronze " flowers, when he 
 came, than he was to give them to Ola; they, too, 
 smoked cigarettes together (Ola could not smoke). 
 The Lieutenant would have liked dearly well to take 
 up a flirtation with " Bronze, " but he scarcely dared 
 try it, through fear he would not get " Bronze " and 
 would lose Ola. He was, however, equal to almost 
 any emergency, so, one night when he was near, very 
 near Ola, he said, " Say, dear, would you object to 
 my paying a little attention to Miss Hilton?" 
 
 For a moment the woman was absolutely numb 
 with astonishment. Hastily enough she left him, say 
 ing in the iciest tones : " Not the least in the world. " 
 
 He saw his mistake in an instant, and tried hard 
 to make her forget his words; but all to no purpose. 
 With those words he had dealt her a wound which 
 
 78
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 would never heal. She never forgot it, never forgave 
 him. 
 
 He was profuse in his explanations and expostu 
 lations, but after listening to him a long time in 
 silence she said, " You can never get back the posi 
 tion you once had in my heart. From one point of 
 view, I am astonished that you should make such 
 a request of me. For, considering the time, place, 
 circumstances, there should have been nothing in 
 your heart but love and tenderness for me. That you 
 could be thinking of another woman, shows an utter 
 lack of principle. At that I do not wonder. But to 
 speak of it, was brutally cruel and showed a lack of 
 the finer instincts of a gentleman. When we first 
 met I exacted a promise of you not to mention my 
 name on board the ' Grant : ' I do not know 
 whether you have kept your word or not. I now, 
 however, not only release you from your pledge, 
 but I request you to talk me over fully and freely 
 with the officers. If possible, bring Mr. Cameron 
 and present him to me (Ola had often heard the 
 Lieutenant mention Mr. Cameron and Mr. Lewes). 
 I will give you unmistakable evidence that I prefer 
 him to you. You can then, without injury to my 
 dignity, which in honor you are bound to respect, 
 leave me and take Miss Hilton. " 
 
 But this did not suit the Lieutenant at all. He 
 had no notion of giving up Ola, least of all to 
 Cameron, whom he did not like. He talked to her, 
 tried his best to convince her she had misunderstood 
 him. But that was the subject of their first quarrel, 
 
 79
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 as the final rock upon which they split; for Ola never 
 forgot it, never forgave him, and it militated against 
 him whenever she had him under the microscope. 
 
 A few evenings after this, the Lieutenant called, 
 and brought flowers for both Ola and " Bronze. " Ola 
 was not dressed so " Bronze " saw him first. Ola 
 did not hurry about her toilet, for she was angry with 
 him that he had asked for " Bronze. " When she 
 finally entered the parlor and he gave her the flowers 
 he had brought for her, she just as petulantly threw 
 them on the floor as she could have done had she 
 had origin on the Tar Flats of Hoodlumdom. In an 
 instant she was heartily ashamed of herself. 
 
 " Bronze " went into her own room, threw her 
 self on the bed and laughed to her heart's satisfaction. 
 From that hour, between Ola and " Bronze, " the 
 Lieutenant's name was never mentioned. In speak 
 ing of the affair to Nell, Ola said, " I would apologize 
 to " Bronze, " only I do not wish to re-open an un 
 pleasant, and, it seems, a tabooed subject. " 
 
 " Drop him Ola, he's no good. I tell you if 
 Jack should treat me that way I would never speak 
 to him again as long as I live. It is bad enough to 
 know a man one loves could think of another woman ; 
 but to play second fiddle to one's own best friend, is 
 a little too much humble pie to eat, even for the sake 
 of a naval officer. " 
 
 " But I do not love Lieutenant Benners, Nell, ' 
 said Ola. 
 
 " Don't you ? Well, then, all I've got to say is that 
 80
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 you've a queer way of acting. Do you think he loves 
 you? " 
 
 " I know he doesn't. I understand myself, with re 
 ference to Lieutenant Benners, no better than you 
 do. By some strange, incomprehensible influence he 
 has over me, I am subject to his command and I 
 love him to madness when I am with him. When he 
 is away, I see things clearly enough. When he is 
 with me, I do not see things as he sees them ; but 
 as he would have me see them. " 
 
 " Then your safety lies in keeping him away from 
 you. " said Nell. 
 
 " Ah, yes, I know it, but somehow I do not do 
 it, " sighed Ola. 
 
 This last attempt of Lieutenant Benners, con 
 vinced him he could not " run " two women in the 
 same house, at the same time, if one of those women 
 was Ola Del, so he wisely enough gave up the at 
 tempt. 
 
 Shortly after that time " Bronze " went away 
 for the Summer, and she never returned to the flat, 
 but took a place of her own. This cause of discord 
 removed, the Lieutenant's influence on Ola grew 
 stronger day by day. Much of the time she was alone 
 in the flat, Jack and Nell being away in the country, 
 enjoying their half good-comrade, half lover com 
 panionship. Then the Lieutenant fairly reveled in 
 love, and Ola gained as firm a hold on his heart as 
 his selfishness would have permitted any woman to 
 get. Much about her appealed to his better self. 
 
 81
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 She was always most scrupulously clean, and gen 
 erally well dressed. She never would show him any 
 marks of affection in the presence of others, which 
 rather annoyed him. 
 
 Her frigidity to other men suited him exactly, but 
 she might unbend a little for him. To have had her 
 show her love before Nell and Jack, would have 
 pleased him not a little; but had she revealed it be 
 fore Ned St. Claire, the Lieutenant would indeed 
 have clasped her to his heart and exclaimed : " Oh, 
 you dear girl ! " in genuine, heart-felt pride and grati 
 tude. She insisted, however, upon treating him cour 
 teously in the presence of others ; that and that only. 
 And she exacted the same of him. Since he could 
 not help himself, he submitted ; but it annoyed him. 
 Hence, when they were alone, and, with boyish 
 gayety he could chase her around the room, pull the 
 pins out of her beautiful black hair and send it tumb 
 ling over her bare shoulders, or eat bonbons, with 
 her very near him, and not always be afraid of a tap 
 at the door or a ring at the bell, he just settled down 
 to a full enjoyment of this life, which was more 
 pleasure to him than going to the seashore, or roof- 
 gardens, or anywhere else ; and in his happiness he 
 forgot everything except that he was happy. 
 
 He often said to Ola, " You have only to let 
 me know, dear, if there is any place you would like 
 to go, and I will take you." 
 
 She was not the kind of woman to suggest out- 
 82
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 ings, but she spoke carelessly of some out-of-door 
 performance. 'Had he seen it?' 
 
 ' Yes, and it was very good. They would go 
 any evening she liked. It would be there all sum 
 mer.' Then he forgot all about it. 
 
 Not so Ola. She waited until the last week and 
 then accepted an invitation from the " Banker " to 
 go with him and Nell and Jack, writing the Lieu 
 tenant not to come over that Saturday evening, 
 as she was going to see this performance with some 
 friends. She thought he would feel somewhat guilty 
 that he had let the entire Summer pass without mak 
 ing good his word in this respect, and expected a 
 letter of apology from him, but none came. Then 
 the idea took possession of her that he did not wish 
 to go out with her; that he classed her among those 
 women who are to use, but not to associate oneself 
 with publicly. She constantly dwelt on this thought, 
 and the bitter waters of Marah flooded her soul. 
 
 She passed all his acts in review. " Had he 
 ever been anything but unqualifiedly selfish with 
 her?" "No." 
 
 She did not care for anything he could give her, 
 for the Lieutenant had always been quite candid 
 about his lack of wealth. She wanted money wanted 
 a great deal of money that she might devote herself 
 to art. But she would not have accepted it from him 
 had he been worth a million. She never wished to 
 talk business or any other worry or perplexity with 
 Lieutenant Benners, but that his own heart had 
 
 83
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 not prompted him to offer her some token of love, 
 galled her. So far as going to places of amusement 
 was concerned, the " Banker " sent her more invita 
 tions than enough, about one in ten of which she ac 
 cepted, and almost every one accepted since Lieu 
 tenant Benners' reign, had been due to pique or 
 dissatisfaction of some sort with the Lieutenant. 
 
 The " Banker, " poor man, said that he was 
 never so happy as when he was with her. It would 
 not have increased his happiness any had he known 
 about the Lieutenant, and his evil conduct and bad 
 behavior; so Ola did not tell him whom he had to 
 thank, any more than she told him that, lost in morbid 
 reflections upon her handsome lover, she many times 
 knew no more of what he was saying to her, than 
 she would have known had he addressed her in 
 Sanscrit. 
 
 No, she did not need Lieutenant Benners as an 
 escort, ' but he should not make a convenience of 
 her,' she said. Thus she mused and walked the floor 
 and lashed her soul into a furious tempest; and to 
 lighten the load she threw her handsome Lieutenant 
 overboard, by writing to him that their intimacy filled 
 her with the most absolute loathing of herself, and 
 that she wished to end it. 
 
 This rupture came when their love was at its 
 height, and when he felt surer of her than he ever 
 had. From out the clearest of clear skies the storm 
 broke. He never suspected that one little line from 
 him, apologizing for his carelessness, would have 
 bound her closer to him than ever. She did not get 
 
 84
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 that one little line so much wished for, but she got 
 one from the " Banker " inviting her to go to Mauch 
 Chunk, and this time she accepted his invitation. 
 
 She made " apoplectic tomatoes " with all her 
 restless might until the morning appointed for the 
 excursion to the Lehigh Valley.
 
 CHAPTER VIII. 
 
 The "Banker," Mauch Chunk, The Captain of the 
 " Grant." 
 
 Nell made Ola's coffee for her the morning of 
 the Mauch Chunk excursion. The " Banker " ar 
 rived sharp on time; he was radiantly happy and 
 overpoweringly perfumed. They left the city and 
 steamed along, and the " Banker, " poor man, thought 
 he had her all to himself; for which conceit he is to 
 be congratulated. He knew no more of Ola's 
 romantic love for the " Prince " than he knew of her 
 passion for Lieutenant Benners. Blessed are the 
 ignorant. 
 
 They steamed along towards Mauch Chunk, ar 
 rived on time without accident and, just like any 
 other two mortals, went to dinner. 
 
 Up the beautiful Glen Onoko they went the fol 
 lowing day, returning just in time to see the Mauch 
 Chunk train pull out and leave them ; so they again 
 went over the bridge to the Wahnetah Hotel to din 
 ner. When the " Banker " was with Ola, he system 
 atically missed every boat and train they were sched 
 uled to take, except the one upon which they started. 
 It was a little trick of his. He did not explain why 
 he did this, he had no need to, she knew. But she 
 forgave him ; he was a good man and he loved her. 
 
 Life was all one dreary waste, one struggle after 
 86
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 Fame, which, " ignis fatuus " like, dragged her soul 
 through the sloughs; made it one condemnation of 
 herself; what mattered the missing of a train more 
 or less? It made the " Banker " happy and it did not 
 materially increase her misery. There still remained 
 the dinner at the Wahnetah Hotel, and it was sure to 
 be a good one. But, alackaday ; they lingered so 
 long over the dinner that the next train steamed 
 out and left them, and the " Banker " was obliged to 
 walk over the mountain to Mauch Chunk to pay their 
 bill there, and join Ola at the station at five to take 
 the last train for the day. 
 
 He attracted her attention at the Mauch Chunk 
 station by tapping on the window near which she 
 sat, thus arousing her from a reverie. A loving, sor 
 rowful, bitter, reverie, in which she saw the United 
 States Revenue Cutter " Grant ; " a room, a 
 bunk; and thereon listlessly stretched, Lieutenant 
 Benners. A soft light is in his beautiful eyes; a 
 pleased expression lingers on his red lips. He is 
 thinking of a beautiful girl in New Orleans who 
 loves him, and who is waiting there patiently wait 
 ing for him to wed her and thus make her happy. 
 
 " Wait on, sweet girl, until you are weary of 
 waiting! And then, in numb despair, give the wreck 
 of your life and the remnant of your love, to some 
 good man who will love you; for Lieutenant Benners 
 was but philosophically enjoying himself and the 
 ' Now ' with you, when with him you rested in the 
 shade, and ate bonbons from the same box through 
 those long summer days. There was no depth of 
 
 87
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 meaning in his heart, when those heavenly eyes 
 fastened upon you in a way that made you so love 
 him. He was grateful for your love that Summer ; 
 he is now, in a sort of way, while he is wading 
 through your impassioned letters. But don't rely 
 upon so frail a reed, dear. Could you look down into 
 his heart, you would see that, sometime, in ten, fifteen, 
 maybe twenty years from now, he intends to marry. 
 Whom? Oh, that he hasn't definitely settled. There 
 is plenty of time for that. In ten, fifteen, maybe 
 twenty years from now, he thinks he will begin to ap 
 preciate a home. But don't depend upon him, dear. 
 Be wise in your generation ; seek a good man who will 
 love you. For there your happiness lies ; if there be 
 such a thing as happiness for women in this world." 
 
 These are the thoughts that pass through Ola's 
 mind. She also thinks of those who love her, chiefest 
 among whom she numbers the " Prince. " Then she 
 sees the Lieutenant indifferently seat himself to write 
 to this Southern girl. She can read that letter, she 
 knows exactly the spirit in which it will be written. It 
 will be friendly, but through it all, from date at top 
 to initials at bottom, will be mingled the spirit of 
 haste and an evident desire to have it off his mind 
 not that it is exactly an unpleasant task, but because 
 he wants to be rid of it in order to be free for his " day 
 off " on the morrow. 
 
 From this sad reverie she was aroused by the 
 " Banker's " tap on the window. In one hand he had 
 their satchels, in the other a bunch of wild flowers 
 he had cut as he tramped over the mountain. Each 
 
 88
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 time he stopped to cut those " weeds, " as he called 
 them, his fond and loyal heart turned to the woman 
 who was waiting at the Wahnetah Hotel for the five 
 o'clock train. And that woman at the Wahnetah 
 Hotel was thinking of the Cutter " Grant," and of 
 Lieutenant Benners, with his glad eyes and his soft, 
 rich voice and his Southern accent. And he, the 
 Lieutenant, was thinking of the girl in New Orleans. 
 
 Thus do things go in this world. Thus, from day 
 to day do we turn carelessly aside from an affection 
 which is beyond price, and with eyes fastened upon * 
 worthless imitation, go on sorrowing. Thus it is 
 and ever was and ever will be. Why not be philo 
 sophical enough to sa)^, " So be it? " 
 
 The " Banker " disposed of the " weeds " and the 
 satchels in such a way as not to interfere with the 
 pleasure he took in looking at this woman he loved 
 so truly. It is wonderful what an amount of happi 
 ness he could extract from merely looking at her; 
 and it was well he could be happy in this way, for that 
 cold, conservative, ceremonious woman, who, in spite 
 of her repellent ways had won and held his love, 
 limited the demonstration of his adoration to looks. 
 He told her in letters he adored her; he occasionally 
 touched lightly upon the forbidden topic in conversa 
 tion. Once when he ventured a trifle too far, she told 
 him not to make himself " obnoxious. " That word 
 " obnoxious " was exceedingly distasteful to him, and 
 he resolved not to merit it again. So, as a rule, he was 
 " pretty decent, " as Nell would have expressed it. 
 
 Ah, well! he looked at her, he talked to her, he 
 89
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 told her that he had really enjoyed the walk over the 
 mountain; only he did not like to be separated from 
 her so long. He told her how happy he had been for 
 those two days ; he told her that, considering the en 
 joyment he had had, " it was cheap. " The " Banker " 
 was a good financier. If she did not watch, and 
 silence him, she invariably knew the cost of their little 
 outings, dinners, theatres or concerts. To make a 
 good bargain was born in him, and he never could 
 understand that she took no possible interest in the 
 hackman's fee. She once carelessly said, when she 
 found a bad nut in the nuga he brought her, that the 
 candy was not fresh. 
 
 " Well, if it isn't, I'll just speak to them about it. 
 Why bless your dear heart, it ought to be good, it 
 cost eighty cents a pound. " 
 
 The train rattled on towards New York, and he 
 never tired of looking his love at her. At last this 
 began to make her fidget. She manufactured all sorts 
 of excuses to get him into conversation with the con 
 ductor, upon the occasion of the latter's trips through 
 the cars; but the conductor had other things to at 
 tend to. He answered politely, but he passed on about 
 his business. Ola noticed that he had a Southern 
 accent, and resembled Lieutenant Benners, only he 
 was not so handsome, not so patrician-looking. The 
 " Banker " looked and looked at her, and she fidgeted 
 more and more. How could she get his eyes off her 
 if only for a moment? She looked intently around 
 the car for something to distract his attention. Final 
 ly her face lighted up. 
 
 90
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 " Try to see how many words you can make from 
 the sign over the door, ' Lehigh Valley R. R.' " He 
 took out his note-book and wrote her request 
 therein, saying: "I'll struggle with that some 
 evening when I'm thinking of you and the happiness 
 of these two days, now so nearly at an end. " 
 
 That scheme had been a failure. What else 
 could she offer? On the opposite side of the car there 
 was a little instrument which resembled, to some ex 
 tent, a common, round clock. 
 
 " Have you noticed that machine on the other 
 side of the car? It looks like a-dollar-and-forty-nine- 
 cent alarm clock. " 
 
 " No, " said the " Banker, " but he made no attempt 
 to follow her eyes to the instrument indicated. 
 
 "I thought you told me you were observant?" 
 said she. Although she never took her eyes off the 
 opposite wall, she knew that a gentleman who sat in 
 the seat behind them, had raised his from a book 
 which, for some time, he had been pretending to read, 
 in order to glance at the spot on the wall which so 
 much interested her. She had known for some time 
 this gentleman's reading was only seeming. She 
 imagined he instinctively knew she was fidgeting, and 
 that, though she could not understand why, he was 
 actually enjoying her agony. The man behind them 
 looked down at his book, and she could imagine she 
 heard a suppressed chuckling laugh, and a sotto voce, 
 " It's fine sport to see a woman writhe. " But this 
 of course was due to her overwrought nerves. 
 
 "So I am." said the "Banker," placidly. But 
 91
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 he did not turn his head nor take his eyes off her. 
 
 " You cannot be, for that machine has been there 
 ever since we started, and you have not seen it. " 
 
 " That is true. I am now more agreeably em 
 ployed in looking at you. " 
 
 This time she was sure she heard the chuckle 
 from the seat behind them. But she did not; again 
 it was nerves. 
 
 " Now that I have called your attention to it 
 do you mind turning around to look? then you can 
 tell me what you think it is, " said Ola, determined 
 to gain an instant's respite from his eyes, and at the 
 same time silence the chuckle behind her. 
 
 The " Banker " turned, put on his glasses and 
 said, " It's a thermometer. " Then took his glasses 
 off, put them in his pocket, and began devouring her ; 
 body, soul and patience, fidgeting and all, with his 
 love-looks. 
 
 The logic of men and angels could not have 
 convinced her that the man in the back seat was not 
 gradually stepping into Heaven at her expense. The 
 sides of the car echoed with his diabolical laughter. 
 But this was all a mistake. The man in the seat be- 
 hand them was the personification of Silence and 
 Self-important Dignity. 
 
 Ola had given herself too large a dose of that 
 Yankee twang; too many sickening draughts of the 
 " Banker's " perfumed handkerchief had drawn up in 
 battle array that idiosyncrasy of her nature which 
 invariably went into rebellion at perfumes of any kind. 
 She should jump out of the car window, she knew she 
 
 92
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 should, if this nervousness were to continue. She asked 
 the "Banker" to pardon her passing in front of him, 
 arose, and walked over to take a nearer view of the 
 instrument. Then he turned, ever following her 
 with that love-look which was so torturing her. 
 
 " No, it's not a thermometer," said Ola. 
 
 "Oh, it must be. What else could it be?" said 
 the " Banker. " 
 
 " A dynamite bomb, for aught I know, " and in 
 her soul she almost wished it were, " but it is not a 
 thermometer. The more I look at it, the more I think 
 it is a bomb. It begins to register at 40, the explosion 
 will come at 190; we are now at 80; so you can easily 
 calculate how much longer you have to live. " 
 
 These remarks of Ola, had drawn the " Banker " 
 into a more conspicuous position than he relished. It 
 had also aroused a feeling of sympathy in the man 
 who sat in the seat behind them, pretending, in such 
 a dignified way, to be reading a book. Whenever 
 there is a dispute between a man and a woman, and 
 there is another man near at hand who pretends to 
 read a book, when in point of fact he is enjoying 
 the woman's vexation, and that other man takes any 
 part in the contest, be sure he will lend his influences 
 towards annihilating the woman. This you will find 
 to be the case every time, and this occasion was no 
 exception to the rule. The man who had pretended to 
 read his book looked up at Ola, and with the keenest 
 satisfaction on his face, prepared to destroy that 
 little theory of the dynamite bomb, and at one an-j 
 
 93
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 the same time relieve the " Banker " of his fear of 
 death and his unpleasantly conspicous position. 
 
 " That is a barometer, madam. " 
 
 Ola looked at the instrument, then at the person 
 who had addressed her. The man was evidently 
 above medium height and rather thin; looked as if 
 he were exceedingly well satisfied with himself and 
 as ill-content with the rest of mankind especially 
 when the rest of mankind was of the feminine gender. 
 
 "Has he one wife too many?" she questioned. 
 "Or is his digestion bad?" She did not feel a bit 
 grateful to him for mixing in her private quarrel. 
 Woman-like, if she could shift the torture from the 
 " Banker " to him, she would do it. So, looking at 
 the instrument, she said: "Indeed? It does not in 
 the least resemble any barometer I ever saw. I had 
 one once, and it was the most miserable little per- 
 verter of the truth that ever was that did not wear 
 trousers. " 
 
 This last part of the clause she spoke softly, and 
 to the " Banker's " private ear. Not so softly, how 
 ever, but that the man in the seat behind heard what 
 she said. In fact, she intended he should hear. She 
 spoke softly, and in the " Banker's " private ear, only 
 that the man in the seat behind them, should by no 
 means have occasion to deem her remark applicable 
 to him. Then, looking again at the barometer, she 
 shook her head. 
 
 " No, I never saw one like that. Are you sure? '' 
 This to the man in the seat behind them. 
 
 The way that man did arm and equip his insulted 
 94
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 importance, was a warning to all persons ignorant on 
 the subject of barometers. 
 
 " Hm, " he said, and closed his book and straight 
 ened up. " Hm, madam, I am an officer in the 
 United States Navy. We have considerable use for 
 barometers and without boasting, I may say that 
 I am acquainted with all the various patents. " Then 
 he went on to explain the construction of the instru 
 ment under discussion. 
 
 Ola listened politely, and at the close of his re 
 marks she thanked him for his kindness, apologized 
 for her seeming doubt of his knowledge, but assured 
 him that it was only seeming for of course, even to 
 one of her limited discernment, the profundity of his 
 reading, the keenness of his intellect, must at once be 
 perceived. 
 
 These remarks had two effects, both of which 
 pleased her. The outraged dignity of the officer of 
 the United States Navy was appeased, and the 
 " Banker " was jealous. The officer of the Navy even 
 deigned to give her a patronizing smile; but the 
 " Banker, " poor man, looked sullenly ahead and did 
 not smile at all. However, Ola did not care which 
 way he looked, or whether he smiled at all or not, 
 if he did not look at her. The fact is, the moment 
 that piece of pomposity said : " Madam, I am an 
 officer in the United States Navy, " the diplomatic 
 little jade said to herself: "So you are, are you? 
 Well, then, I'll interview you. " 
 
 But it would never do to let him know that he 
 was being interviewed. Back, back, back from among 
 
 95
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 the jingles of her pinafore days there came to her, 
 as if whispered by a ministering angel, these words: 
 
 " You've heard it said in all the schools, 
 That flattery is a dish for fools: 
 But now and then your men of wit, 
 Will condescend to take a bit. " 
 
 She resolved to try the prescription on this officer 
 of the United States Navy. It worked to a charm. 
 He talked of barometers in general, and this one in 
 particular; he talked of marine stories, and scored a 
 woman who had recently shown her ignorance by 
 writing a most erroneous and impossible one. He had 
 written her a letter, he said, in which he told her 
 in forcible, if not polite language, that what she knew 
 of the sea was evidently limited to her view of the 
 same from the piers of watering places ; had given 
 her some wholesome advice ; and spoken of the im 
 portance of the United States Navy and of himself in 
 particular. 
 
 Ola was delighted ; the " Banker " looked straight 
 ahead and sulked. Then she launched into most ful 
 some praise of the Navy. If she were a man she 
 would be a naval officer but, alas, what was the Navy 
 now ? 
 
 " Oh, if one could only have been in the navy 
 during the war! that would have rendered life worth 
 living. The little ones would gather around one to 
 catch every word about it, and fairly burst their little 
 hearts in anticipation of another war when they 
 should have become men. " 
 
 She had conquered the situation with this officer 
 96
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 in the United States Navy. He thought her ' the 
 most charming little woman that was ever hampered 
 by a lubberly blunderbuss of an escort. ' She knew 
 he liked her. A woman can never tell when a man 
 loves her, but she is not mistaken as to what sort 
 of an impression she has made. 
 
 " Is your vessel in New York harbor now? 
 You will pardon me, I know, because I am a woman ; 
 but I have a great desire to know to whom I am so 
 much indebted. " 
 
 Here the officer in the United States Navy took 
 a neat little seal-leather case from his pocket, and 
 presented her a card upon whidi she read : 
 
 Captain Leon W. Calhoun 
 U. S. Navy. 
 
 During all this conversation with Captain 
 Calhoun, Ola had been standing in front of him, and 
 at the side of her own seat, with her back to the sullen 
 " Banker. " Now she placed her small hand lightly 
 on the " Banker's " shoulder, and as he looked up 
 at her, she smiled at him she thought his patience 
 merited that much and exclaimed, " My, how tired 
 I am ! " The " Banker " prepared to move along and 
 let her sit down, but she restrained him and added, 
 " and how thirsty ! Do you think it would poison me 
 to drink out of the car glass?" 
 
 " I guess not, " said the " Banker, " and he started 
 to bring her a glass of water. 
 
 Then Ola turned to the Captain and inquired, 
 " Are you not the Captain of the ' Grant?' " 
 
 97
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 " I am, madam," and the Captain of the " Grant ' 
 looked a most peremptory order for her to tell how 
 she knew this. 
 
 She laughed a little at his confusion, and said, 
 " Oh, don't be astonished. It's no mystery. You 
 simply pay the penalty of greatness. I saw your 
 name, and a brief resume of your gallant service 
 during the war, in the papers." She thought it just 
 as well not to add that she had had a long talk with 
 Lieutenant Benners about this same article. She 
 wanted to say something more, but she saw the 
 " Banker " coming toward them with the glass- of 
 water, and she must contrive to find some fault with 
 it and so get the poor, patient fellow off again. 
 
 She peered into the glass but did not drink. 
 
 "What's the matter?" said the "Banker," "I 
 thought you said you were thirsty?" 
 
 " So I am, but there is some sort of insect, 
 in the bottom of the glass. " 
 
 The " Banker " took out his glasses and looked. 
 He could not see anything; but he was vain of his 
 youthful appearance (that is, he appeared youthful to 
 himself, if to nobody else), so he would not acknow 
 ledge that he could not see the insect. 
 
 " Never mind ; don't bother, I can do without, " 
 said Ola. 
 
 She said "I can do without/' as if she did not 
 wish to trouble him, but she looked at him with those 
 gray-black eyes and smiled upon him, and he would 
 have asked no greater happiness in life than to bring 
 water to her, and take it back again and empty it 
 
 98
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 many times, because she said it had insects in it, 
 whether he could see them or not. 
 
 As soon as he was out of hearing, she turned to 
 the Captain and continued, " Is not Lieutenant Ben- 
 ners one of your subordinate officers?" 
 
 The Captain bowed his head in token of assent, 
 and looked as if he would like to say, " Yes, very 
 subordinate. " But that would never do. That would 
 be undignified. Then Ola said to herself, " Uphhugh : 
 so you don't like Lieutenant Benners;" but she 'had 
 only an instant, the " Banker " would soon be back, 
 and she must drink the next glass of water if she had 
 to chew the insects. From her own pocket-book 
 she took her card and gave it to the Captain. He 
 read aloud: 
 
 Mrs. Ola Del 
 Artist. 
 
 Then the address. 
 
 He asked her a few questions relative to the 
 branch of art in which she worked, and she laughingly 
 responded : " If your sweetheart should wish to give 
 you a mouchoir-case, I could paint the much honored 
 forget-me-nots on it ; or I could decorate with hearts 
 ease a sash, that she might throw over your photo 
 graph after you had deserted her, but of anything 
 which in the true signification of the word may be 
 called ' art/ I am incapable." Involuntarily she sighed. 
 
 The " Banker " had returned with the water, 
 which she drank without ever glancing at it. 
 
 Then the Captain of the " Grant " gave his at- 
 99
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 tention to his book ; she sat and looked out of the car 
 window into the night, and the " Banker " looked 
 at her without for one instant removing his glance 
 until they had reached Jersey City, where the Captain 
 of the " Grant " touched his hat in parting salutation, 
 and passed out of her sight, but not out of her mind. 
 
 She was tired, but she knew that nothing could 
 save her from that supper at the old St. Denis, on 
 Eleventh Street and Broadway. 
 
 When they were seated at the table, the 
 " Banker " began, " You are silent. Of what are you 
 thinking?" 
 
 too
 
 CHAPTER IX. 
 
 " Now if that Centurion had been a Captain in the 
 navy " 
 
 " Of the centurion who brought Jesus to heal 
 his servant, " said Ola. 
 
 The " Banker " laughed. He was well read in 
 Biblical matters. 
 
 "What does that thought point forward to?" 
 he said, as he passed her the bill of fare. 
 
 " I do not know. But there is something back 
 of it, which pointed forward to it, " said Ola. 
 
 " Bring me some poached eggs on toast, and a 
 cup of tea, " said Ola, to the waiter. " What will 
 you have?" she said to the "Banker." 
 
 " The same, " he replied, looking at the waiter. 
 He always took the same as Ola ordered, no matter 
 how much or how little he liked it. 
 
 As she seemed inclined to lapse again into 
 thoughtful silence, the " Banker " pursued the sub 
 ject. " What about the centurion who brought 
 Jesus to heal his servant?" 
 
 " Nothing much about him, but my respect for 
 that centurion has gone up several points to-night, " 
 said Ola languidly. 
 
 "Won't you have a glass of wine? you look very 
 tired, " said the Banker. 
 
 It always made Ola furious to have him pet or 
 101
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 pity her; so she braced up, consoling herself that the 
 ordeal was almost over. 
 
 " No, thank you. You see that big gun of the 
 U. S. Navy was pretty heavy to handle. Exhaustion 
 is but the natural effect. " 
 
 The " Banker " looked a little dark and sullen at 
 this, he would prefer to forget this naval officer, who 
 had monopolized so much of Ola's attention. The 
 Lord knew he had always hard enough work to 
 persuade her to accompany him any where. He might 
 be permitted to keep her attention, cold and formal 
 though she was, when he was with her. Oh, no! he 
 wasn't a bit disposed to be good natured toward this 
 naval chap. But she smiled, for she knew that he 
 would be restored to happiness before the supper was 
 over. 
 
 " Yes, my respect for that centurion has mounted 
 way up to-night. I do not know that I ever before 
 thought what a demoralizing effect authority has 
 upon the animal man. You are such a good hand to 
 repeat Scripture, can you call to mind the exact words 
 in this story of the centurion?" said Ola. 
 
 " Perhaps not exactly the Bible text, but in sub 
 stance it is this : ' And when Jesus was entered into 
 Capernaum, there came unto him a centurion, be 
 seeching him and saying, " Lord, my servant lieth at 
 home, sick of the palsy, grievously tormented." And 
 Jesus saith unto him, " I will come and heal him. '' 
 The centurion answered and said, " Lord, I am not 
 worthy that thou shouldst come under my roof; but, 
 speak the word only, and my servant shall be healed. 
 
 102
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 For I am a man in authority, having soldiers 
 under me; and I say to this man, go, and he goeth; 
 and to another, come, and he cometh ; and to my ser 
 vant, do this, and he doeth it." When Jesus heard 
 it he marvelled, and said to them that followed, 
 "Verily I say unto you I have not found so great faith, 
 no, not in Israel." And Jesus said unto the centurion 
 " Go thy way, and as thou hast believed, so shall it 
 be done unto thee." And his servant was healed from 
 that selfsame hour.' " 
 
 " Thank you. " said Ola. " You will notice that 
 Jesus marvelled at the man's faith. Not so I " 
 
 As the " Banker " looked inquiringly at her she 
 added. " I marvel at the man's humility. He said, 
 ' Lord, I am not worthy that thou shouldst come 
 under my roof; but speak the word and my servant 
 shall be healed. For I am a man under authority, 
 having soldiers under me, and I say to this man, go, 
 and he goeth, and to another, come, and he cometh, 
 and. to my servant, do this, and he doeth it.' What a 
 great pity it is that the stuff of which that centurion 
 was made was exhausted when he was born. " 
 
 " How do you know it was? " said the " Banker. " 
 He said this because he was contentious, not that he 
 had caught the drift of Ola's remarks, or knew in 
 the least to what they would lead. 
 
 " Oh, I am sure of it. Historians of all ages have 
 only been too anxious to chronicle the characteristics 
 of the great. I make no doubt, a rival scribbler would 
 have gone more than a Sabbath day's journey for 
 the sake of finding a captain of a hundred soldiers 
 
 103
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 who deemed himself unworthy of entertaining a 
 Galilean peasant. Yes, he was the only one who ever 
 lived. Let us not try to rob him of his glorious 
 dues. Now if that centurion had been a captain in 
 the navy, with a handful of sub-officials, and a double 
 handful of greasy tars under him, though he knew he 
 was speaking to the Saviour of men, he would have 
 been so puffed up with his own conceit and import 
 ance, that he would have said : ' Jesus, they tell 
 wonderful stories hereabouts of you; I dare say you 
 are a much over-rated man, but I have a valuable 
 servant and it would be troublesome to replace the fel 
 low. He is sick with the palsy; if you think you can 
 cure him, I am willing you should try. Any reasonable 
 sum that you ask, will be paid you. Of course you 
 recognize that my official position renders it neces 
 sary for me to be careful with whom I associate.' " 
 
 The " Banker " laughed most heartily. His 
 laugh was loud and discordant, and always jarred 
 on Ola's ears. But he was greatly amused and he 
 laughed again. At this moment the waiter placed the 
 supper on the table, and the " Banker " proceeded to 
 serve Ola. He was so shaken with laughter that he 
 served clumsily, even more clumsily than usual. In 
 taking up the piece of toast he broke the egg and let 
 the yolk run out. But he was too delighted at Ola's 
 slap at the navy to permit such a trifle to annoy him. 
 So he put the spoon under another piece of toast, 
 paying no heed to the bias slash under the bread, 
 and the second egg met the same fate as the first. 
 
 Not at all abashed by his awkwardness, he re- 
 104
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 marked jocosely, " The cook paid no possible atten 
 tion to the feelings of the eggs when he cut this toast, 
 did he?" 
 
 " It is a kind of heart-broken looking mess, " 
 said she. 
 
 Heart-broken looking messes did not affect the 
 " Banker's " appetite. He was one of those fortunates 
 who " feed. " " Why are you so down on the navy? 
 anyway, " said he. 
 
 " I am not down on the navy, as you are pleased 
 to term it. I am simply observant of the plebeian 
 yeast which has leavened those in authority. And 
 it will manifest itself, whether it's a servant girl come 
 to reign over her former associates, or a lord high 
 admiral. The gruff manners and the cruelty of sea 
 captains, the brutality of policemen, the petty tyranny 
 of judges, the inhumanity of absolute monarchs, are 
 matters of history. Make a man ruler over his fel 
 low-man, and if his acts show that he believes in the 
 brotherhood of man and the fatherhood of God, you 
 may take my word for it there is good stuff in him." 
 
 " I thought you didn't believe in the brotherhood 
 of man and the fatherhood of God. " said the 
 " Banker, " ever on the alert to contend. 
 
 " Merciful saints and all departed martyrs ! " ex 
 claimed Ola, petulantly, looking up at the ceiling of the 
 St. Denis dining-room. " Will you never learn these 
 two simple facts? In the first place, what I think, 
 never did and never can make the truth untrue. In 
 the second place, when I wish to make myself under 
 stood by you, or any other inhabitant of earth who 
 
 105
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 speaks, or pretends to speak the English language, 
 I must serve myself with forms of expression which 
 are used, and whose meanings, whether true or un 
 true, are definitely comprehended. You understood 
 me thoroughly when I used the platitude, ' the 
 brotherhood of man and the fatherhood of God. ' I 
 was not intending to make a confession of faith, or to 
 establish the truth, or prove the untruth of the 
 theories of the immortal Rousseau, but simply to 
 state, in a way in which I thought you would com 
 prehend, how little, oh, how very little, fine clay finds 
 its way into humanity. Be honest to the full ; be 
 generous a little. Pay your bill, tip the waiter and 
 let us go; for I am tired nigh unto death and I have 
 a wagon load of ' apoplectic tomatoes ' to make to 
 morrow. " And Ola pushed her plate back, having 
 scarcely tasted her food. 
 
 The " Banker " looked at her. He would have 
 liked to protest against this waste of money for the 
 purchase of food which was not tasted, but he knew 
 Ola's nervousness had reached a pitch when it 
 would be dangerous to contend with her, so he 
 
 quietly obeyed, and they left the hotel. 
 ***** 
 
 The Captain of the " Grant " paced the deck of 
 his Revenue Marine that night and interrogated his 
 soul. Had he now an opportunity to even up that 
 damned Newport business with Benners? If so, how 
 and when and where? But that soul of his was a 
 disciplined soul, it was imperturbable ; its depth was 
 not so easily sounded. It could not well be other- 
 
 106
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 wise, since it had belonged to him for nearly sixty 
 years, and the Captain was a stickler for discipline; 
 but he paced the deck of his Revenue Marine, and 
 interrogated his soul. 
 
 If the shrewdest lawyer in the City of New York 
 had measured wits on the witness stand with that 
 soul of the Captain of the " Grant, " the lawyer would 
 have been obliged to retire from the contest covered 
 with ignominy. For he could not have compromised 
 that soul, nor lost it in any labyrinth of questions. 
 Moreover the obdurate soul proved too much and too 
 many for its high and mighty owner, if he was the 
 Captain of the Revenue Marine Steamship " Grant, " 
 and if he was covered with laurels for the mighty 
 deeds done in the War between the States. He paced 
 the deck and interrogated his soul as to how he 
 might square that old Newport account with Lieu 
 tenant Benners; and his soul politely, but positively, 
 declined to predicate any statement about such an un 
 reliable piece of masculinity as Lieutenant Benners. 
 
 The Captain of the " Grant " was a master hand 
 at sticking to a thing. From what he had once re 
 solved upon doing, all the mighty hosts of Heaven 
 couldn't turn him aside; he did it, if it took an arm. 
 He occasionally went off and damned himself; it is 
 barely possible that he had wept, when he was sure 
 he was alone. But yield? Never. So now he walked 
 the deck and questioned his soul. There may be folk, 
 and wise folk, too, who will doubt if the Captain of a 
 Revenue Marine would have agitated himself about 
 that old Newport affair. They will affirm that the 
 
 107
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 Captain was a great man, that he had proved his 
 valor, and that to say he was soured because of the 
 infidelity of a woman would be nonsense. Leave 
 such conduct as that to poets, dreamers. 
 
 Yes, the Captain was a great man. Admit it! 
 Always admit a fact, no matter how much it goes 
 against the grain. The Captain was a great man. 
 Nevertheless, that Newport affair rankled within 
 him. Greatness is really a thing of value; like your 
 true fissure vein, it bears gold and precious metals, 
 but it is walled in on either side by base rock; there 
 are times when it tapers down very thin, and the pay 
 streak threatens to give out entirely. Occasionally 
 the pay streak in a true fissure vein is cut off by an 
 immense boulder, which, in Rocky Mountain mining- 
 lore, is called a " horse. " That, in man, which is 
 called, and which is, greatness, is often narrowed 
 down, sometimes abruptly and forever terminated, by 
 woman. More often than otherwise, she is brain- 
 less, soulless, conscienceless a little female David ; 
 but she brings down the mightiest warrior in all the 
 Philistines. Of this be absolutely positive. 
 
 If you doubt, search the records of history. Adam 
 walked and talked with God, received from him in 
 structions in agriculture, without greater embarass- 
 ment than the son of an Ohio farmer would feel in 
 talking with his father. What separated him from 
 his communion with God? Genesis III: 12. Com 
 miserate then, but do not blame the Captain of the 
 " Grant, " nor detract from him one jot or one tittle 
 of his justly earned greatness. But be truthful, and 
 
 108
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 admit that he did pace the deck and long to get 
 square with Lieutenant Benners. The Captain was a 
 great man. But he was human. 
 
 With uncertain proportions, as seen through a 
 fog, the Captain of the " Grant " saw a dark-eyed 
 woman in one of the cars of the Lehigh Valley train. 
 The little waves that swished up against the side of 
 the " Grant " repeated the query : " Is not Lieutenant 
 Benners one of your subordinate officers?" and as 
 they receded, they echoed a soft sigh ; as though from 
 the lips of a woman who thought of what she would 
 not. Could he, by means of this artist, square the 
 account? Who could tell? At any rate his own soul 
 would not. Said the Captain of the " Grant " to 
 himself, " I'm damned if I don't cruise around there a 
 bit, and take a few bearings. " Then he went down 
 to his room, opened a locker, took out a bottle, 
 poured out some sort of stuff that looked like cold tea, 
 " drank 'her down, " cleared his throat, wiped his 
 lips off with his pocket hankerchief, and " turned 
 in." 
 
 ***** 
 
 The "Banker" expressed his gratitude to Ola for 
 the pleasure she had given him, and pressing her 
 hand, as he bade her "good-night," reminded her that 
 she owed him a letter. (Poor, tired Ola! it seemed 
 to her she was always in debt to him in that respect.) 
 Then he went to his lonely home. " Gad ! " he said to 
 himself, " she's the snappiest little thing I ever knew. 
 How I do love her ! She's all a bunch of nerves. But 
 she'll be better when she's my wife. Deuce take it, 
 
 109
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 she's the hardest woman to make love to, I ever saw 
 in my life. Gad ! I never can get over the look she 
 gave me when I asked her to let me kiss her, nor 
 forget the letter she wrote me the next day. I am 
 sure she wrote it with an icicle. The cold-blooded 
 way in which she told me, a repetition of that 'sin' 
 that's the word she used 'sin' against the establish 
 ed canons of her conduct, I might translate into her 
 farewell, was enough to dishearten the bravest. But 
 T go on, and on, and on. Why? Because I love her. She 
 once told me, in an art gallery we were visiting, that 
 systematic kindness would conquer the most obdurate 
 heart. She had no reference to me, or to herself, 
 either; but I have never forgotten those words, nor 
 the soft* light in her grey-black eyes. That was the 
 only time I ever saw that light there; she seemed so 
 happy that afternoon; and I ? I am always happy 
 when I am with her. " 
 
 The " Banker " let the cold water run into the tub, 
 jumped in, rubbed himself off briskly. By this course 
 of treatment he fancied he kept himself looking and 
 feeling younger. 
 
 Then he " turned in. " 
 
 ***** 
 
 Ola leaned her tired head against the window- 
 pane and looked up at the stars. She had forgotten 
 the " Banker, " forgotten the Captain of the " Grant, " 
 forgotten Lieutenant Benners, forgotten all this suf 
 fering world. Up there dwelt the good and the pure 
 who had loved her. Thoughts of the good and pure 
 who had loved her hovered around the " Prince. ' 
 
 no
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 That he might, in a princely way, be her patron, was 
 all he asked. To-night this princely patronage 
 seemed of little consequence. She wanted sympathy, 
 encouragement, faith. She was nauseated with love, 
 and with tokens of passion, honorable or otherwise. 
 The bright stars looked far away, and cold, and piti 
 less 1 , and unsympathetic. She walked away from the 
 window, pulled the pins out of her black curly hair, 
 shook it .down over her shoulders, donned a " robe de 
 nuit, " and she " turned in. " 
 
 in
 
 CHAPTER X. 
 " Tis thus they're taught to woo on Wall Street." 
 
 " Ola I love you. And I have faith in your 
 ability, and I intend to encourage and assist you. I 
 shall see that your works become known. I do not 
 consider myself competent to criticise. We will 
 leave that to the public. If you ask my opinion, I 
 will give it, and you must take it for what it is 
 worth. One of these days I will have you for my 
 little wife. " 
 
 Thus daily mused Mr. York and looked satis 
 fied and felt satisfied; felt as good as he had, 
 many times before, when he was " long " on a strong 
 rising market in those " ticker days, " before Ola 
 had "brought him to his senses. " But he was too 
 busy a man to spend much of his time in musing. His 
 features would soon take on that impenetrable ex 
 pression which, with him, meant business. This was 
 Thursday and he had to close out and get the cash on 
 something by Saturday noon. He had promised him 
 self not to postpone any longer that which he had 
 determined to do. He passed in review the various 
 enterprises he was " promoting, " to determine which 
 one was most likely to yield quick money, if pressed a 
 little. 
 
 " It must come, " he said. They were to dine 
 up town some where on Saturday night. When he 
 
 112
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 said good night to her, he would give her a few 
 thousand dollars enough to start her and say, "Now 
 go it, Baby; before your books, and servants, and 
 masters, get to the end of that, I will replenish it. " 
 " Would old Hard take that block of land in Harlem, 
 I wonder, if I knock off one or two per cent ; I'll try 
 him on it. The land is cheap now and the old rascal 
 knows it, but unfortunately I am pressed. You just 
 wait till I catch you 'short,' old man, and I'll squeeze 
 you till you squeal. " 
 
 Mr. York walked out of his office, intent upon 
 driving a bargain with a man who was Hard by 
 name and hard by nature, and upon getting a deposit 
 on the transaction. He must, for Saturday was nigh at 
 hand, and he was still " backed " by an old mission 
 ary, who collected money of the "four hundred " for 
 work among the slums of New York. Let no one un 
 derstand that this old missionary was a dishonest 
 man. Not a bit of it. He turned every dollar he 
 collected for his philanthropic work into that 
 work as fast as it was needed. All the money was 
 honestly recorded, honestly disbursed. He would not 
 put his Christian conscience at such severe discount 
 with his God as to tamper with this fund, for the 
 Kohinoor diamond. But if he could " back " Mr. 
 York occasionally, when that gentleman was caught 
 on the wrong side of the market, and Mr. York in 
 gambler-fashion, handed him back his advance with 
 from one to two hundred per cent interest, there was 
 nothing wrong about that ; certainly not. He never 
 exacted anything of Mr. York, except the bare re-
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 turn of the money. What better use could the profits 
 of a reckless speculator be put to, than buying fat 
 capons for one of the Lord's annointed? Sure enough, 
 what? The old missionary was an honest, honorable, 
 
 Christian. Who shall dare deny it? 
 
 * * * * * 
 
 Ola wanted to fly to Mr. York's office; once in 
 the building, never was elevator so slow, she thought, 
 as the one that took her to the third floor. At the 
 door of the first office she inquired for Mr. York, 
 and a gentleman with grey hair looked more than a 
 little astonished, for Mr. York was not in the habit 
 of having "lady callers. " 
 
 Mr. York touched her hand lightly, and con 
 ducted her to his private office. He could not exactly 
 take her in his arms and say to her, " Ola, I love you, 
 I am yours. Will you say the same to me?" He 
 wanted to, but that little piece of business did not 
 seem so easy in that private office, as it had appear 
 ed to be when he was- alone; so he effected a com 
 promise between his desires and his bashfulness by 
 saying, " Darling, you are just as sweet as you can 
 be, " and he fumbled a little with the fringe on her 
 wrap. 
 
 She thought sadly of that beloved fringe, and re 
 membered joyfully that she had paid twelve dol 
 lars a yard for it, in the days before Will Fallen 
 " hunted her down, " and began absorbing the sur 
 plus. Thus she got two satisfactions out of that 
 fringe, which her fancy never could have conjured up 
 at the time she scolded herself for her extravagance 
 
 114
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 in buying it. The first was that that money Will 
 Fallen never could get; the second was that it fur 
 nished a conduit for Mr. York's nervousness to find 
 ground, and so pass safely off. 
 
 To Mr. York's remark, " Darling you are as 
 sweet as you can be." She said, "Do you think so?" 
 and she laughed a little, and felt nervous and cold. 
 
 " Yes," he said, and still he fumbled with that 
 twelve-dollar-a-yard fringe, and hesitatingly, almost 
 stuttering a trifle, continued, " Now darling, I can't 
 go up town with you to dinner to-night. The di 
 rectors of the A. B. C. railroad are to have a meeting 
 with the directors of the X. Y. Z. railroad at the 
 Astor House, to arrange for a ninety-nine years' 
 lease of the X. Y. Z. to the A. B. C, the A. B. C. to 
 guarantee the bonds of the X. Y. Z. and to build one 
 hundred miles of the road. There are one hundred 
 and six miles of this X. Y. Z. road, six miles of it 
 running out into the suburbs of the city of P. where 
 all the wealthy people doing business in P. live, to 
 get out of the smoke and dirt of that great manufac 
 turing city. Upon this six miles of the road there is 
 to be a five-cent fare collected, the same as on the 
 trains from here to Harlem. I got the capital sub 
 scribed to build the X. Y. Z. road, and then they got 
 into a wrangle with the A. B. C., which can, I be 
 lieve, prevent us from getting the right of way; and 
 the only way of using the capital subscribed, is to 
 merge the X. Y. Z. into the A. B. C., by giving the 
 new road a branch of the old. I must go to the Astor 
 House and meet these men, for I have a commission
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 on the capital subscribed, and also a contract to build 
 and equip the road. " 
 
 In this talk Mr. York was so completely at home 
 that he quite forgot to fumble with that twelve-dollar- 
 a-yard fringe. But he looked at Ola as earnestly as 
 though she had been one of the rebellious directors jf 
 the troubled X. Y. Z. road ; squinted a trifle, and gave 
 off his talk on finance, in sections, by a peculiar 
 little nervous motion of the second finger and thumb 
 of his left hand, as if he were thus flipping away and 
 overcoming any trifling objections. 
 
 All this was quite ordinary, comprehensible, 
 Wall Street talk to Mr. York, but Ola felt that she 
 was at a disavantage, so now she began to fumble 
 with that twelve-dollar-a-yard fringe, feeling ever so 
 thankful that it was there to fumble with. 
 
 Quite oblivious of her discomfiture, Mr. York 
 went on, " Oh, how I wanted to dine with you to 
 night, you little angel ! " and he leaned forward and 
 kissed her. He pressed his lower lip with his white 
 teeth after he had taken that kiss, and in his soul 
 he said, " Oh ! what happiness will be mine when she 
 is my wife." 
 
 Harold York was a bull on the Ola Del matri 
 monial stock; the proudest, stiff est-necked bull that 
 ever charged at the innocent unoffending red. He 
 would catch any unlucky bear that dared to go short 
 of that stock "on the hip" and toss him so high that he 
 would not get back to earth until the common stock 
 had paid a ten per cent dividend, the preferred was 
 worth a thousand a share, and the bonds Well, Mr. 
 
 116
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 York couldn't think of estimating the value of those 
 bonds without a pencil, a ream of paper, and plenty 
 of time; and he had to attend the meeting of those 
 railroad directors at the Astor House. 
 
 " Yes, I know all about you, darling. I have 
 studied you night and day, whenever I had a moment 
 of time, for five months. " 
 
 " Yes, " said Ola, "it is just five months to-day 
 since you wrote me that letter, " and she gave him a 
 look with those grey-black eyes of hers, and a little 
 smile that " boosted " her stock another point or two. 
 
 " That letter brought me to my senses ; reclaimed 
 me from the life of a reckless speculator and a worth 
 less stock gambler, living upon excitement, and of no 
 value to himself, or anybody else reclaimed me, 
 I hope, to be a better man. " 
 
 " Then I must have a sort of right to you, if 1 
 have reclaimed you, " said Ola. 
 
 " Yes, you have the most undisputable right to 
 me. I am yours, and yours alone; do with me what 
 you will. " And he leaned over and looked at her 
 so earnestly, that she felt quite uncomfortable. 
 
 Mr. York was sitting with his back to the win 
 dow, but the light from it fell with what faint force 
 the evening permitted, on Ola's face. She, wishing to 
 change the subject, said, " You have me at a disad 
 vantage. The light from that window reveals every 
 expression of my face to you, but yours is in the 
 shadow. " 
 
 " I do not want to take advantage of you, " said 
 Mr. York, " let us change seats. " But when he arose, 
 
 117
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 it occurred to him that some one might see him 
 through that window, so he pulled down the shade, 
 lit the gas, and then sat down again in Ola's vacated 
 chair. 
 
 She wondered if it were getting late, and if 
 she were keeping him from his appointment at the 
 Astor House. "You must tell me when it is time for 
 me to go home," she said. 
 
 " There is plenty of time darling, " he hastened 
 to assure her. 
 
 The mention of the Astor House turned Mr. 
 York's thought along the line of finance again. He 
 said: 
 
 " I have been awfully busy with my lawyer, I 
 have a suit against Jay Gould and his associates, 
 which will come up for trial this month. This is the 
 case I wrote you we were trying before a referee. We 
 have taken it away from the referee, and placed it on 
 the calendar again. I promoted the N. & F. railroad. 
 I had a contract with the N. & F. Company to pro 
 mote the enterprise, that is, raise the money to build 
 and equip the road; see? and I was to have ten 
 per cent, commission for the amount of money I 
 raised. I presented the enterprise to Jay Gould, and 
 I got him and his friends to take it up. They did 
 furnish the money to build and equip the road. I 
 did not think the thing would go through so quick, 
 so I went out to Chicago to attend another matter, 
 and while I was gone they closed the thing up and 
 left me out, and I did not get my commission, see? 
 Gould and his crowd, and the old original company 
 
 118
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 got into a wrangle, and Gould froze them out, don't 
 you know. The road cost me one million eight hun 
 dred thousand dollars to build. I have sued the com 
 pany for ten per cent, of that amount, which is one 
 hundred and eighty thousand dollars. I shall win 
 my case. I shall have no trouble in proving my 
 claim. " 
 
 " I hope you will not have to go hungry until 
 you get that money from Gould, " said Ola, to whom 
 this law-suit against Jay Gould and his associates, 
 was the airiest castle in Spain. 
 
 " I do not think that Gould will let the case go 
 to trial; I think he will try to compromise," said Mr. 
 York. 
 
 " If he should offer you as a compromise, a pound 
 of candy, and a pass on the Manhattan L. to Harlem 
 and back, I advise you to take it, " said Ola, and she 
 laughingly added : " We will ride up to Harlem, eat 
 the candy as we ride along, walk back, and thus teach 
 you not to go to Chicago, when you have a deal 
 on .with Jay Gould. I hope you did not have to give 
 your lawyers a very big retaining fee. " 
 
 " No, it's a contingent, " said Mr. York. 
 
 " They will need a microscope to see the speck 
 they get out of it, " said Ola. 
 
 " I am doing business with Jay Gould, and we 
 are friendly." Ola laughed. " The amount of money 
 it would require to stock my little ambitious scheme 
 is not great, and the result of the enterprise is more 
 than problematical; but I fancy you could take it 
 
 119
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 out into the open street and get subscriptions to it 
 more easily than you could convince any sane man 
 or woman that Jay Gould has any friendship for 
 you or any one else. They say the man is a good 
 husband and father, but they say nothing else good 
 of him. " 
 
 It was nearing the time when Mr. York must go 
 to the Astor House, so Ola arose to go, and he ac 
 companied her to the elevated road, paid her fare, 
 and taking from his pocket a small package he gave 
 it to her, saying, " Do not open it till you reach 
 home." 
 
 Then he fumbled a little with that twelve-dollar- 
 a-yard fringe, and with his eyes said: "May I?" to 
 which she answered with her lips, " Yes." 
 
 He kissed her softly, pressed his hand gently on 
 the fringe that had formed such a useful party to 
 their mutual embarrassments, and she stepped on the 
 train. 
 
 When she reached home she opened the package. 
 It was a beautiful pocket book, and contained three 
 thousand dollars in crisp new bills, and just two 
 words : " From Harold. " 
 
 Then she was in a fever of excitement to go to his 
 office and put the thing in better business shape, 
 and sputtered about it a great deal to herself. The 
 next afternoon when she called at his office, he stepped 
 out into the hall to speak to her. When she began 
 to protest about his unbusiness-like way of doing 
 business, Mr. York said : 
 
 " Now, darling, you just fix that up any way to 
 1 20
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 suit your little self. If there are any papers you wish 
 me to sign you get them ready and mail them to 
 me, and I will sign and return them. I am awfully 
 busy this afternoon ; there is a man in the office who 
 represents the B. & N. Construction Co., I am 
 negotiating with him to put in that big plant on the 
 Harlem river, and besides that, there are five others 
 waiting to see me. " 
 
 Vanquished again by this Prince of the House 
 of York, she went home and wrote him a long letter 
 in which she inclosed her note for three thousand dol 
 lars. 
 
 Mr. York read the letter, he even read it twice, 
 looked at the note, admired her signature, smiled, and 
 saying, " I should hate to be found dead with such 
 a thing as this upon me," tore the note into small 
 pieces, throwing them into the waste paper basket, 
 but the letter he put in his pocket. 
 
 Was this business-like? No, it was simply a 
 question of keeping one of two worthless pieces of 
 paper; and Mr. York kept the larger. of the two; kept 
 the one upon which was recorded the gratitude of 
 the woman he loved. 
 
 The three thousand dollars given Ola was the 
 commission from the sale of the block of land in 
 Harlem to old Hard. And, with the exception of " a 
 little old change, " as he expressed it, it was all he 
 had received. That did not matter; the missionary 
 would " back " him awhile longer, and he would get 
 something else through before many weeks. 
 
 121
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 In a few days Mr. York found time to call at 
 Ola's flat where he talked to her of finance and love ; 
 and this he repeated as often as his business would 
 permit. 
 
 122
 
 CHAPTER XL 
 
 " Love from every heart and hand, but not the 
 
 smallest token from the man for whose sake 
 
 she had so nearly tasted death." 
 
 There was a never-dying yearning in her heart to 
 see Lieutenant Benners; to know again that respite 
 from thought, and the goadings of ambition which 
 his presence had always given her; to have being 
 without suffering. The joyousness of his life was 
 contagious. Oh, could she see even one day into the 
 future! Oh, for some oracle to consult! Her head 
 ached sadly from work and worry. She had just 
 received a telegram from the " Prince " saying he 
 could not call, as he had anticipated. This was a re 
 lief, a great relief. The 'humiliating consciousness 
 that she was not worthy the blind adoration Mr. 
 York gave her, at times pressed heavily upon her. 
 
 She walked up and down the floor and wished 
 Ned St. Claire would run in; for, although she never 
 spoke of the Lieutenant to him, there was something 
 so " tonicky " in that "nil desperandum" air which Ned 
 always had, that life seemed a trifle less unsatisfactory 
 after half-an-hour's conversation with this friend and 
 brother. But no one came near her. She could hear 
 Nell and Jack, contented as ever with each other, 
 talking in the back room. Up and down, up and 
 down the rooms she paced, ever and ever more rest- 
 
 123
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 less. It was in the last days of October, and the 
 house was cold. Her fingers were stiff and blue. She 
 looked out of the window up at the sky. There were 
 cold, white-looking clouds drifting slowly along. 
 The " Prince's " star was covered, but the Lieuten 
 ant's star twinkled down upon her; and she could 
 almost imagine it said, " There are lots of lovely 
 women where I am. " 
 
 Then she closed the blinds with a snap, even 
 the upper parts of them ; and she never did this with 
 out wondering if he would wish for and miss the 
 beacon. Again she began pacing the floor; she said 
 she was freezing. Why was it people always came 
 when she did not want to see them, while if there 
 was ever a time when she hated her own thoughts, 
 and could fairly scream out with nervousness, it in 
 variably happened that the sound of Nell's and Jack's 
 happiness came tantalizingly to her from the back 
 room, but she remained alone? 
 
 She could not read, although the " Banker " had 
 just sent her a lot of new books; she would not sew, 
 and could not write, though many unanswered epistles 
 from loving friends mutely pleaded. She sat down 
 at the piano and tried to practice ; but her mind wan 
 dered from the " studies " and she found, with dis 
 gust, that she was executing stray bits of popular 
 music. 
 
 " Bah ! I hate popular music. " 
 
 She closed the piano and walked to the chiffonier; 
 thinking she would read the " Prince's " little, mo 
 notonous, tautological letters and by their pure intent, 
 
 124
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 possibly be drifted into a happier frame of mind. She 
 opened the drawer and put her hand idly upon a 
 package of letters, supposing them to be from the 
 " Prince. " 
 
 They were from Adrien Benners. 
 
 One after another she read them. Then, dis 
 gusted, she tossed them back into the drawer with 
 out even putting the rubber band around them. " My 
 God! What a commonplace lot of stuff;" she said. 
 She brushed the imaginary or real dust from her 
 hands and went into the parlor to begin again her 
 pacings to and fro. 
 
 Standing before the pier-mirror she pulled the 
 pins out of her hair, pretending to herself that she 
 was cold, and her long hair would keep her warm. 
 Then she despised herself for this attempt at self- 
 deception, and knew she was only living over again 
 the times when Lieutenant Benners had sent the black 
 mass tumbling about her shoulders, and had laughed 
 at her flushed cheeks and disheveled locks. Shame 
 facedly she brushed it all out smoothly and put it up 
 on top of her head again, lingering fondly over the 
 little curls on her temples, which the " Prince " 
 thought so beautiful. What should she do to rid her 
 self of herself? She tumbled her books over; the 
 new ones she had not resolution enough to begin, and 
 the old ones were like spent wine. 
 
 She flicked the dust off her Bible with her hand 
 kerchief, and thought of the time she and the Lieu 
 tenant had searched its pages for a prophecy; and 
 how hard he had been to please ; and how she had 
 
 125
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 opened again and again without satisfying him, and 
 how at last he had smiled when she read something 
 about -two bodies that were so close together that no 
 air could pass between them. That was in the early 
 days, and she wondered if he had founded a hope upon 
 the prediction. Probably not; he was too much flat 
 tered by all women, to care much about any one. 
 She scarcely knew what she was doing, certainly not 
 why she did it, but she opened " The Word " again. 
 It was upside down. Then she laughed to think how 
 veritably things were upside down with them. This 
 very starting right, as it were, induced her to read the 
 words her fingers rested upon. " First, " she said, 
 " I will deem this applicable only to what might be, 
 if I turn things right side up ; so she turned the book 
 around and read: 
 
 " If they return to Thee with all their hearts an-.l 
 with all their soul in the land of their captivity, 
 whither they have carried them captive, and pray 
 toward their land, which Thou gavest unto their 
 fathers, and towards the city which Thou hast chosen, 
 and toward the house which I have built for Thy 
 name; then hear Thou from the heavens even from 
 Thy dwelling place, their prayer and their supplica 
 tions, and maintain their cause, and forgive Thy peo 
 ple Which have sinned against Thee." 
 
 Much thought she gave these passages of Scrip 
 ture; many reflections as to how they could be used 
 as a simile, illustrative of, and applicable to, the state 
 of affairs existing between herself and Lieutenant 
 Benners. As she looked down upon them it occurred 
 
 126
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 to her that she had begun to read in the middle of the 
 passage. True, it was just where her finger had 
 touched, but what of that? Had she not a right 
 to the entire sentence? Then she traced back to 
 find the period, and read aloud: 
 
 " ' If they sin against Thee (for there is no man 
 which sinneth not) and Thou be angry with them, 
 and deliver them over to their enemies, and they 
 carry them away into a land far off or near; yet if 
 they bethink themselves in the land whither they are 
 carried captive, and turn and pray unto Thee in the 
 land of their captivity, saying, we have sinned, we 
 have done amiss, and have dealt wickedly; if they 
 return to Thee with all their heart and with all their 
 soul in the land of their captivity, whither they have 
 been carried captives, and pray toward their land 
 which Thou gavest to their fathers, and toward the 
 city which Thou hast chosen, and toward the house 
 which I have built for Thy name; then hear Thou 
 from the heavens, even from Thy dwelling place, 
 their prayer and their supplications, and maintain 
 their cause, and forgive Thy people which have sinned 
 against Thee.' 
 
 "I wonder if I have sinned against him?" she 
 asked herself. How many times had she proposed 
 that same question to her inner consciousness? With 
 the book still in her hand she went to the desk and 
 wrote : 
 
 ' If I have sinned against thee (and who is 
 there that sinneth not) and thou be angry with me, 
 and deliver me over before my enemies, and they carry 
 
 127
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 me away captive into a land far off or near ' Ah ! 
 my Love! whether I have sinned against thee or not, 
 thou hast delivered me over to my enemies, and they 
 carry me away captive, into lands, sometimes far off, 
 and at other times more near ; but yet I am ever and 
 ever a captive. My enemies are my own suspicions 
 perhaps my unjust thoughts. There is no space so 
 great that thought cannot traverse it before the finest 
 instrument of man's invention could record the frac 
 tion of time consumed. Chained and captive is my 
 desire toward thee. I would that thou wert happy, 
 I would that I could make thee so. Bah ! Thou art 
 always happy. Why waste any wishes on thee? I 
 would that thou wert miserable, even as I am; for 
 I would that thou didst love. Oh, peace ! Oh, rest ! Oh, 
 tranquility! Come and abide with me. Oh, Hand 
 Potent! wipe out all my yearnings for perfection of 
 any kind; for in this life there is naught to gratify 
 the desire. Let me be a fool! Let me be a perfect 
 idiot, but let me be happy ! " 
 
 But, alas ! there was no concentration in her ; she 
 could not write, any more than she could do anything 
 else. Fatigued nigh unto death, and with no just 
 cause for weariness, she threw one arm over the 
 Bible, letting the other hand, with the pen still in 
 her fingers, hang down at the side of her desk, and 
 a troup of vagrant thoughts stalked around in her 
 brain. Could she be happy? She tried to remember, 
 and was forced to admit that over the entire period 
 of her life of which she had any remembrance, there 
 had been responsibility in plenty moral or financial 
 
 128
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 but happiness had never been hers. Again that 
 tantalizing sound of merriment from the back room. 
 Happiness there was for others none for her. 
 
 " Oh, how cold it is ! and dreary and bleak ! My 
 
 feet are like ice. I wonder if ? I hope not yet, I 
 
 have some letters I should write, first. Can't I get 
 warm ? " And she walked the floor again. 
 
 It was growing late; she heard Jack bid Nell 
 good bye and go; heard Nell shut and lock the hall 
 door. Through the glass door she saw that the light 
 in the hall was extinguished. Lucy had gone to bed. 
 Soon all would be asleep, and she would be alone with 
 her nervousness. How could she endure it? She 
 seated herself again at her desk, addressed an envelope 
 to Lieutenant Benners; then she wrote: 
 
 " For some reason I am borne down with the con 
 viction that I shall not live through that I shall 
 pay for my folly, my life as the price. I am not afraid 
 to die, .1 have no desire to live. When I am gone, 
 nothing can make any difference to me. If it so 
 happen that I leave with a clean record, that my 
 friends and I have many in speaking with sorrow 
 of me, may not blush that they honored me with their 
 confidence and love, then shall I not have one regret. 
 Perhaps this may not be ; and if not, when I shall be 
 no longer here, either to defend myself or to regain 
 my lost ground by patient devotion to those of whom 
 I have never been worthy, I shall in that day, need too 
 much charity myself, to be scant in my apportionment 
 now of that 'chiefest of the blessed three' to you. 
 
 " Viewed from a simply human standpoint, and 
 129
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 from no greater knowledge of the motive within, than 
 one person can have of another, you would be roughly 
 judged by the world. Therefore, I shall, to-night, 
 destroy all your letters, which might be the 
 cause of unpleasant comment. You once told me you 
 have a conscience; to that I leave you. For myself, 
 I would rise to that height whence I can suffer long, 
 without wail; whence my thoughts would not be of 
 the wrongs you have put upon me, but of those I 
 have done to others. I wish to think no evil of you 
 now, even if you merit it; for I know one who will 
 mourn for me, deeming me all that was pure, and I 
 do not deserve it. If I retain my reason, I shall bear 
 all things to the end, without a word. 
 
 " It is possible I have been unreasonable, exact 
 ing. Those are faults which you will never commit, 
 for you will never " 
 
 She groaned aloud with the agony she suffered. 
 Oh, she was so cold ! She went into the dining- 
 room to fix some hot wine, hoping that would help her. 
 She drank it, but her stomach would not retain it, and 
 she threw it up. Every instant the pains increased. 
 Finally Nell heard the noise, and, opening the door, 
 looked in astonishment at Ola. 
 
 " Good heavens, Ola, what is the matter with 
 you ? You look like death. " 
 
 " And I feel like it, " said Ola, as her teeth chat 
 tered and her lips and finger nails assumed the blue 
 of a coming chill. 
 
 " Gracious, girl, get into bed and let me do 
 something for you. You frighten me to death. " 
 
 130
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 She led Ola to her room. Passing Lucy's door, 
 Nell knocked on it and said, " Lucy, get up and 
 dress yourself, Mrs. Del is very sick. We must ring 
 for a messenger and send for a doctor. " 
 
 Lucy came out in a few moments, with as near 
 ly an expression of bewilderment and sorrow on her 
 features, as she was capable of. 
 
 The doctor came, but he seemed not in the least 
 pleased with the appearance of his patient. The 
 poor girl's misery was pitiful to witness. Aside from 
 excruciating pains, she was in the most dreadful 
 chill. They applied heat to all the surface of her 
 body, and the doctor administered anaesthetics. But 
 it was daylight before the sufferings were in the least 
 moderated by the opiates. 
 
 Ola had not been able to answer any of the 
 doctor's questions, and Nell knew nothing, except that 
 she had found Ola in the dining-room about two in 
 the. morning. Nell and Ola had been friends for years, 
 but they never had been inseparably intimate. When 
 the doctor went away, Nell thought she would write 
 notes to Jack and Ned St. Claire, telling them of 
 the state of affairs in the flat. Not liking to leave 
 her friend alone, she went to Ola's desk which stood 
 open, with her scribblings of the night before all in 
 sight. Nell noticed the envelope addressed to Lieu 
 tenant Benners, and supposing that the sheets of 
 writing might be a letter to him, in which case 
 she would enclose and mail them, she began reading. 
 She read it all; then taking the sheets of paper and
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 envelope up together, she set fire to them, burning 
 them to the last speck. 
 
 " You shall never leave any such witness as 
 that behind you, my girl, " said Nell, as she walked 
 into the room where her friend was lying. As she 
 looked at Ola she thought, " So he has brought you 
 to this, has he? 'Ah, my poor girl! you are just as 
 impractical in matters of love, as you are in business. 
 You turn away from the " Banker, " because he uses 
 perfumes and turns in his toes. Those who mean well 
 by you, you never have time to see. They must 
 present themselves at a proper hour, and go home by 
 eleven, at the latest. This good-for-nothing is per 
 mitted to ring your bell at any hour the fancy pleases 
 him, and to stay as long as he has a mind to. You 
 are never too busy to see him, and what does the 
 scoundrel care for you ? Nothing. " 
 
 Nell knew that she would have to guard 
 her friend's secret. There would be no more work 
 for her while Ola was in danger. She dare not take 
 the chance of exposure by the ravings of delirium. 
 So Nell devoted herself completely to the invalid ; 
 she was vexed, downright angry, at Ola's folly; be 
 sides, she hated to give up her work, so she took what 
 consolation she might, by grumbling at women in 
 general, who had no sense, and at Ola in particular. 
 
 For a number of days the doctor gave them little 
 encouragement. Ola was delirious most of the time; 
 it was pitiful to hear her rave. She fancied that she 
 and Lieutenant Benners were in a hot desert; that 
 a great lion, seemingly out of wanton mischief, had 
 
 132
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 disemboweled her, and the Lieutenant, through fear 
 of the beast, wished to leave her. She cried out 
 piteously " Don't leave me here to die alone, I will 
 not keep you long, for no one can live after this. You 
 know I did not wish to come here; but I loved you 
 and so I yielded. You will come out all right, with 
 life, and health to enjoy your life; -can you not stay 
 by me for a few hours longer ? Oh, how I suffer ! You 
 don't know how I suffer ! " 
 
 Again she raved about a most dreadful storm. 
 She thought the Lieutenant was shipwrecked, and that 
 if she could light the gas and open the blinds, he would 
 get ashore ; but that " Bronze " had bound her with 
 ropes, so that she could not move a muscle, and 
 then had swung in a hammock and laughed at her. 
 Again, the giant with one eye in the middle of his 
 forehead, and his face all blotched with salt-rheum, 
 like the " Pirate's, " was dragging her up the rocky 
 side of -a mountain by the hair of the head, because 
 she would not marry him. And she called most 
 piteously for Lieutenant Benners to come to her 
 rescue, but he told her to wait a few minutes until 
 he should have finished his waltz. 
 
 Ned St. Claire and Jack called every day, but 
 they were kept religiously in the back part of the 
 house. Nell was always glad to see Ned for he was 
 so useful; he was one of those men who can turn 
 a hand to anything, and he was delighted to be of 
 service to Ola in any and every way he could. The 
 " Prince " sent a messenger three times a day for 
 bulletins of his little darling's health. 
 
 133
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 When Ola was out of danger, Nell watched her 
 chance to replace Lieutenant Benners' letters, which, 
 through fear of exposure though them, in case of her 
 friend's death, she had extracted from the drawer in 
 which they were kept. A nurse was engaged and 
 Ola passed through the dreary days of her convales 
 cence, surrounded by every comfort and luxury that 
 love could suggest, from every heart that felt love; 
 but the smallest token from the man for whose sake 
 she had so nearly tipped fingers with the King of 
 Terrors never came. Nell and Ola settled down again 
 into their comfortable friendship, and with intuitive 
 delicacy, both avoided the mention of Lieutenant 
 Benners' name. Nell returned to her commonplace, 
 at-the-present-profitable labors and Ola to her studies 
 and her dreams. 
 
 " A gentleman called to see you about some de 
 signs while you were ill, Ola. He did not care to 
 leave his name, but he will call again, " said Nell one 
 day. 
 
 " Thank you, dear," said Ola. She was too in 
 different even to ask a question as to the man's looks. 
 It was the Captain of the " Grant, " and he did call 
 again; it was designs he wished to see Ola about, but 
 not the kind of designs that either Ola or Nell 
 had in mind. 
 
 It seemed difficult for Ola to get well ; she looked 
 pale and she was nervous and irritable; but she in 
 variably said she " was well, perfectly well, " and 
 it provoked her if any one insinuated that she was an 
 invalid. She wrote to Mr. York, appointing an 
 
 134
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 evening for him to call. She dressed carefully, re 
 ceived him as she would a dear brother; but he 
 loved her, oh, how he loved her ! and he was perfectly 
 willing that any one should know that he "stood 
 ready to marry her at any hour of the day or night. " 
 He followed her every movement with his eyes, lis 
 tened to each sentence, caught and treasured up in his 
 memory her every word that was in the least affec 
 tionate. 
 
 That evening Nell and Jack and Ned St. Claire 
 were there; and later, "Bronze" called. This 
 young woman could not resist the temptation of try 
 ing her beautiful eyes on the " Prince, " but they had 
 no effect on him. 
 
 There were two interests in his life, Ola and Wall 
 Street. Mr. York had concentrated. He had dedi 
 cated his life to the woman he loved ; and the street 
 so world-famous for its financial possibilities, he con 
 sidered the means of making this dedication of prac 
 tical value. That was his world ; that was all for 
 which his soul yearned ; more fortunate than most of 
 mankind, he possessed his heart's desire and he was 
 happy. He was in the ecstatic raptures of love, and 
 he would be rich, fabulously rich ; he would make his 
 little darling's life a state of felicity and delight; she 
 should not have a care ; some day she would weary of 
 her chase after fame. Then, leaning her tired little 
 head, so gloriously crowned with those soft, black 
 curls, on his shoulder, she would say, " Harold, put 
 your arms around me ; let me rest in your love. " 
 
 Then they would be married and he would kiss 
 135
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 her back to life and health ; he would always love 
 her, worship her, crown her queen of all he owned. 
 Some night she would say to him when they 
 were both old, " I have been so happy with you, we 
 have both been so happy with each other, that we 
 have had our Heaven in this life. " They would both 
 sink softly to sleep, and when their servants, wonder 
 ing that they did not arise, tremblingly entered the 
 room the next morning, they would find her lying on 
 his arm, a sweet smile frozen on her lips by Death's 
 kiss. And those who looked, would whisper in awe- 
 subdued voices, " They are both dead. " And his 
 fellow bankers on Wall Street, speaking of his death, 
 of the purity of his home life and his adoration of 
 Ola would say, with that practical level-headedness 
 for which they are so justly famous: " 'Twas the best 
 thing that could have happened to York. He never 
 would have teen worth anything after his wife died. 
 He would have wandered restlessly up and down the 
 world, seeking, seeking, seeking though he would 
 not have known it seeking his wife. Yes, 'twas a 
 good thing. Each was spared the grief of the other's 
 death. " 
 
 Then the bankers and brokers and promoters 
 would forget him and the beauty and purity of his 
 life and the appropriateness of his death. They would 
 return to their banks, to the Exchange and the promo 
 tion of enterprises. And he, if there were any life 
 beyond the grave, would float into that eternity of 
 bliss, the glory of which he had tasted here, with his 
 wife in his arms. 
 
 136
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 Thus he dreamed as he watched her flit around 
 the room, and listened to her vivacious conversation. 
 Ah, the sweet dreams that may come to us when 
 those around us little suspect we are dreaming! 
 
 137
 
 CHAPTER XII. 
 "Are gentlemen then so scarce?" 
 
 " Yes, Mr. York is nice. He has captured my 
 unqualified approval. And as to Jack, he just went 
 into spe-asms over him, " said Nell the next morning, 
 as she and Ola dallied over their simple breakfast. 
 
 " One need only know what you think, in order 
 to be sure of Jack's sentiments." said Ola, and she 
 reflected gratefully of the " Prince " and his adora 
 tion of her. 
 
 Nell ignored this remark. She always accepted 
 it as a foregone conclusion that she did the think 
 ing; in short, that she was she, and Jack was "the 
 Co." She was seemingly intent on admiring the 
 separation going on as she stripped the peeling from 
 a banana, and continued, " The calm way in which 
 he does not conceal his adoration of you is simply 
 charming; and the equally evident way in which you 
 show you don't adore him, is charminger. That word 
 is strictly my own ; mind you don't infringe on my 
 copyright. " 
 
 " I'll make a note of it. " said Ola, laughing at 
 Nell. 
 
 " You know how the idea of your getting married 
 has always upset me?" Ola nodded her head, in 
 token that she understood this, and Nell went on, 
 
 138
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 " Well, I think I can stand him better than any one 
 else. " 
 
 " You seem to take it quite for granted that I 
 intend to marry him, " said Ola. 
 
 " I take it quite for granted, Mrs. Del, that a man 
 who is as much in earnest about such a trifle as marry 
 ing any woman, as Harold York is about marrying 
 you, never fails. " 
 
 Ola knew that whenever Nell called her Mrs. 
 Del, the girl had reached the superlative degree of 
 disapprobation at having the reasonableness of her 
 opinions questioned, so Ola only smiled and was sil 
 ent, being herself quite indifferent; while Nell went on 
 airing her views upon marriage in general, and that 
 same institution as referring to her friend and Mr. 
 York in particular. 
 
 " Marriage of course means absorption, " said 
 Nell. " And in this case you evidently will do the 
 absorbing. You will remain just you ; he isn't built 
 to monopolize you, that's certain. So I forgive him 
 and am willing he should live. I don't know but I 
 am a little bit grateful to him ; for, with him as the 
 long-needed pendulum, your clock will now be in 
 running order; each tick will mean gold, and, event 
 ually, ' Blissdom.' for you." 
 
 " Blissdom, " meant a house which the girls had 
 built one Sunday morning, as they dallied over their 
 breakfast, leaving church-going to those of that mind. 
 This house, " Blissdom, " was constructed with all 
 possible and impossible conveniences and improve 
 ments. In it the girls were to dwell forever. It was 
 
 139
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 to be an Adamless Eden, without any serpent to be 
 guile the three Eves. 
 
 " How nicely you have it all arranged, " said Ola. 
 
 " Haven't I, though ? " And I tell you I feel more 
 comfortable about this marriage than I did as affairs 
 stood a while back. " 
 
 " Do you mean to insinuate that you feared I 
 would marry Lieutenant Benners?" said Ola. 
 
 " Um, " said Nell, and then she shut her lips 
 tightly together, and shook her head in a most 
 emphatic expression of affirmation. 
 
 Ola laughed heartily. She could not help it. The 
 whole affair seemed so ridiculous. " You had a per 
 fectly useless worry, my dear girl. Lieutenant Ben 
 ners is not a marrying man. " 
 
 " Nor anything else that's honorable, I guess, " 
 said Nell. 
 
 " Oh, yes, he is in many ways honorable, " said 
 Ola. 
 
 "Especially with women?" said Neil, sarcastic 
 ally. 
 
 " No, dear, not especially with women. The man 
 is thoroughly unscrupulous where women are con 
 cerned. No one knows that better than I do," and 
 Ola's voice was full of reflective sorrow. " But 
 that is his one, his only fault; and he has charms 
 which few possess. " 
 
 "And pray what are these rare qualities?" said 
 Nell, even more sarcastically. 
 
 Ola was in no humor to notice her friend's 
 acrimony ; she had more important things on her mind 
 
 140
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 and heart. "Well," she said, "for one thing, he is al 
 ways and under all circumstances a gentleman about 
 the rarest thing in this world, I should fancy, " and 
 noting that Nell expected her to limit or qualify he! 
 remarks she continued, " I am instinctively a student 
 of human beings; my tastes force me into the study. 
 I do not know that I can justly claim to be a con 
 noisseur, but it is certain that I am dogmatic. I see 
 plenty of men who pass through the world labeled 
 ' gentlemen ; ' to the superficial obverser they answer 
 every requirement. That sideboard is solid mahog 
 any ; the little commode in the corner is veneered. 
 Glanced at casually, the commode looks the better 
 of the two pieces ; it is newer and probably has had 
 better care. But if you look at it critically, you will 
 probably find tiny blisters here and there, which reveal 
 the depth of the veneer, and tell you most unmis 
 takably that beneath that thin covering, is baser ma 
 terial. There is just that difference between the 
 the patrician gentleman, who has several generations 
 of ancestors, on both his father's and his mother's 
 side that were exempt from the unrefining influences 
 of money-getting, and the gentleman who is the 
 son of the self-made man. It takes more than one 
 generation to filter the blood of the trafficker suffi 
 ciently to produce a gentleman. I am as certain 
 that Lieutenant Benners comes from a noble Southern 
 family, as I could be had I the genealogy of his family 
 at my tongue's end ; and I have scarce ever heard 
 him mention his people. " 
 
 " How do you know, then?" said Nell. 
 141
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 Ola paused a moment, and then said, smiling 
 sadly, but faintly, " Because there are no blisters 
 on him. " 
 
 Nell burst into a loud laugh, " No, there are no 
 blisters on him, but there ought to be ; and there will 
 be some day, when he gets his dues. " 
 
 Ola was not in the least disposed to be flippant; 
 she said quite seriously, "I am sorry to confess it, but 
 it is a fact that goodness does does not amount to much 
 to me. I can endure sin, but I cannot endure vulgarity ; 
 I can endure stupidity, but not when accompanied by 
 coarseness. Where women are concerned, Lieuten 
 ant Benners is a sinner, from the very hot-beds of sin ; 
 but no woman, be she young or old, rich or poor, 
 bond or free, beautiful or hideous, ever stands in a 
 car in which he is seated. Do you think there is a 
 minister of the gospel in the City of New York who 
 can say the same? No beggar, whether in rags or in 
 tags or in velvet gowns, could ask a favor of him 
 and receive other than the kindest and most polite 
 answer. Last Summer, you and ' Bronze ' were 
 away at the sea-shore, the Lieutenant rang our bell. 
 I know his ring from among a thousand. I was in 
 the bath at the time, but I hastily dried my body, 
 jumped into my bath-robe and opened the door for 
 him. After a moment or so he said, ' I was afraid you 
 were not at home, dear; you were so long in opening 
 the door. But I see the cause now, you were in the 
 bath. You dear, sweet, clean girl ; you will wash 
 yourself into a shadow.' 
 
 " ' If I do, I will make it my business to follow 
 142
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 you, wherever a shadow can go,' I said. This 
 pleased him, and he expressed his gratitude after the 
 usual fashion with him. I noticed he did not look 
 well, and spoke of it. 
 
 " 'No,' said he, 'I feel quite miserable. The night 
 I was here last, on my way to the boat I was accosted 
 by a miserable-looking Polish Jew, who was all 
 broken out with leprosy or small-pox or something or 
 other. The poor fellow looked feverish and deli 
 rious or demented, and could scarcely make me under 
 stand what he wanted. But, between his few words of 
 English and my few words of German, I learned it 
 was to some Home for Emigrants, he wished to go. 
 It took me some distance out of my way, but I got 
 him on the right car, paid his fare and told the con 
 ductor where to let him off. The next day we sailed, 
 and in a few days I began to feel ill. My skin feels 
 tight on me and I am feverish. If I am no better, I 
 do not think I will go on the next cruise. Should I 
 get sick and go to the hospital, would you come and 
 see me, dear? ' ! 
 
 " Of course you told him you would. To my 
 mind it would have been a much stronger proof of 
 the Lieutenant's love for you, if he had remained 
 away until he knew that he would not expose you to 
 leprosy or smallpox or some such trifle, " said Nell, 
 bitterly. 
 
 " Yes, I told him I would go to the hospital, or 
 anywhere else, if I could ever be of service to him," 
 said Ola. 
 
 143
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 " Such love as yours should have a reward, " said 
 Nell. 
 
 " If my love should be rewarded, for love is 
 not, never was and never will be anything but selfish 
 ness, what can be said of the Lieutenant's act of 
 kindness to that miserable, disgusting emigrant? But 
 we stray sadly from our starting-point. Nell, the 
 man has gone out of my life; and I am glad of it. 
 The one thing which would unfit me for any useful 
 work in the world, is Lieutenant Benners. But I 
 want to be just to him, and certainly you should, for 
 he never did you any harm. You will never in your 
 lifetime know one with a sweeter disposition, a more 
 broad, comprehensive charity and fraternal feeling. I 
 have often said to myself, if a child, a happy, joyous 
 boy, full of animal gratitude for the pleasure of living, 
 had thought a thought in which he wished everybody 
 could be as happy as he was himself, and that thought 
 could take human form, it would walk about and be 
 known to men as Lieutenant Adrian Benners, on this 
 day of our Loard serving on the Revenue Marine 
 Steamship ' Grant.' " 
 
 "It's a wonder the ' Grant ' doesn't sink, with all 
 that on board, " said Nell, nastily. 
 
 " She most likely would, were it not for the 
 counterpoise she carries, in the shape of the other 
 officers, " and Ola, laughed laughed most heartily 
 for Nell's vindictiveness towards Lieutenant Benners 
 was becoming exceedingly amusing. Finally she ask 
 ed. "Nell, why are you so down on my handsome 
 Lieutenant? " 
 
 144
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 "Who says he is handsome? He had a dread 
 fully ugly hand, " said Nell. 
 
 " His hand is a trifle unshapely. Come to think 
 of it, I don't think I ever saw a naval officer with a 
 beautiful hand. They are almost as universally un 
 gainly as the hands of baseball players. I wonder if 
 a symmetrical hand would form an insurmountable 
 objection to admission for service in the United States 
 Navy." 
 
 " And then he has a dreadfully swaggering 
 walk, " Nell went on, determined to find fault. 
 
 " Good Heavens ! What is he in the navy for, 
 if he can't swagger? You wouldn't deprive the man 
 of all the privileges of his office, would you?" and 
 Ola laughed again more and more heartily. " We admit 
 the ill-shaped hand and the swagger, Nell ; but, for 
 all that, Lieutenant Benners is a splendid specimen 
 of the animal man. He is not tall enough to give 
 one the idea of a Colossus, nor short enough to sug 
 gest a Liliputian ; he has not a suspicion of fat, nor 
 is he just bones, covered with tendons and muscles. 
 The whole man, barring the hand and the swagger, is 
 symmetrical, perfect. His hair is inclined to be 
 stubbv, but it is of a black which harmonizes well 
 with his glorious blue eyes and the rich flesh-tints 
 of his face ; while his smile speaks a volume of tender 
 sympathy. I can never see him when he is happy, 
 without thinking what a glorious trinity are youth, 
 beauty and health." 
 
 " Beauty, like everything else, is a matter of 
 taste, " said Nell, and she showed plainly enough 
 
 145
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 that she was disgusted with Ola for her pertinacity, 
 especially when she added : " It is useless for anyone 
 to try to show you spots on your sun, or faults in 
 your paragon. " 
 
 " Now you are as unjust to me as you are to the 
 Lieutenant. He is not my paragon. I can see the 
 faults he really has, but you either cannot see, or are 
 determined not to acknowledge the virtues he pos 
 sesses. All I claim for Lieutenant Benners, he most 
 certainly has. I can imagine his placidly offering a 
 cigar to an outraged husband, whose couch he had de 
 filed, or asking him out to take a drink, and then 
 thinking him tiresomely unreasonable and making a 
 much too great ado about nothing, should the man 
 refuse or make a fuss. This I can easily imagine, but 
 I cannot fancy his giving an unkind or ungentlemanly 
 word to the greasiest tar on board the ' Grant.' " 
 
 Nell was overpowered but not convinced. She 
 herself was loyal to Jack ; hence the Lieutenant had 
 never made any impression on her. On Ola's account 
 she was loyal to the " Prince, " whose love meant 
 honor, fame, wealth, to her friend. She was afraid 
 of Lieutenant Benners' influence on Ola, and she 
 could not bear the thought that Ola should hold one 
 friendly remembrance of "the unprincipled libertine,' 
 as she called the Lieutenant, in her own mind. 
 
 Ola took up a Sunday paper and, pushing another 
 over to Nell, said : " Read the scandal, dear, and 
 give the Lieutenant's ears a chance to stop burning. '' 
 
 146
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 " There are as many different grades of love as there 
 are men and women who feel it. " 
 
 Restored to health, Ola now " systematized her 
 life," as she expressed it. Before her illness she had 
 engaged a little maid of all work, Lucy, for Nora was 
 lost to them forever, on account of having married. 
 She now arranged for such lessons as she wanted and 
 bargained with herself to do the old spot-cash work 
 two days in each week that she might send Will Fal- 
 lon his hush money. He should never have one cent 
 of what the " Prince " had given her, she said. She 
 opened the long-neglected piano and practiced finger- 
 limbering studies for two hours every evening. Partly 
 on account of this systematizing, principally because 
 she was freed from care, she accomplished a great deal. 
 
 During his reign Ola and the Lieutenant used 
 often to laugh at the " Pirate's " desire to marry her. 
 Benners told Ola that the "Pirate" was the only man, 
 except himself, whom he wished her to see ; he was- not 
 a bit jealous of the hideous old man. But she saw 
 little of the picture-seller. When he first ventured 
 to tell her of his love and his desire to marry her, and 
 also of his conviction that he sometime would, she 
 quite candidly told him her ambitions and that she 
 would not marry until, they were satisfied. He would 
 
 147
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 help her in those ambitions, he said, " if it did not cost 
 too much money. " 
 
 It evidently cost too much ; for he did little, ex 
 cept tell what he could do. The man was always 
 dressed in such shoddy materials that Ola felt con 
 vinced he had no money. But Ned St. Claire, having 
 made a few inquiries about the " Pirate, " told her 
 the man was rich. His store on the Bowery amounted 
 to nothing, but he owned real estate in New York 
 City and Brooklyn. His principal source of revenue 
 was from the sale of pictures to private customers. He 
 was always "nosing and snooking around the studios," 
 so Ned said. When he saw a picture in which there 
 was merit and he was no mean judge, though, in its 
 true signification, he knew no more of art, than he 
 knew of astronomy, or the occult science of the 
 ancients he made a calculation of the need, or lack 
 of need of money by the artist, and negotiated or not 
 for the picture, according to the conclusion arrived at 
 in his own mind. 
 
 Mr. Bartlett was not a philanthropist. He was 
 " out for the dust, every time, " so he himself said. 
 He was not to blame that those artists were poor. 
 ' They always were ; it was a condition of their exist 
 ence. ' So he " nosed and snooked around the 
 studios, " picked up the works of the hungry devotees 
 of art, and necessarily and naturally grew rich on his 
 savings. 
 
 After Ola had " systematized her life," the 
 " Pirate " purely by circumstances, became quite a 
 regular caller, and an important factor in her exist- 
 
 148
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 ence. This was how it came about : The woman 
 had a perfect abhorrence of anything like business. 
 She would at any time rather be cheated than barter. 
 Now and then as she finished a picture, done by way 
 of practice and to which she did not put here name, 
 the " Pirate " found a purchaser for it. He did not 
 forget to charge her a big commission for what he did ; 
 but he loved her he said so, and surely he ought to 
 know. Lest any one think the remark satirical, it 
 might be well to state, positively, that the " Pirate " 
 said he loved Ola; and you may believe, nay, you may 
 know he did. 
 
 Love, like light, is colored by the medium 
 through which it passes. There are as many different 
 qualities and grades of love, as there are different 
 men and women who feel the passion. Lieutenant 
 Benners had loved Ola Del. The controlling prin 
 ciple of his own life was the joys of the flesh ; she 
 ministered to those epicurean passions and pleasures, 
 and he loved her. His love might have been less de 
 sirable because it partook of this quality, but was it the 
 less sincere? Certainly not. It was simply colored 
 by the medium through which it passed. He loved 
 to live, and he lived to love. That was the motor 
 which guided all the acts of Lieutenant Benners; so, 
 naturally, his love for Ola was principally a thing of 
 passion. 
 
 The " Prince " loved Ola. But, after twenty 
 years of the life of " a man about town, " his sick soul 
 turned away from the banquet of Epicurus, and rose 
 to holier things. All she had ever said to him was 
 
 149
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 of the purity of sexless angels. In that way she 
 won his love, and she could have won it in no other 
 way. He needed something to worship, she supplied 
 that need; and because his ideal of her had never 
 been shattered, he loved her. His love was more to 
 be desired than the Lieutenant's, but both emotions 
 were love each simply influenced by the medium of 
 transit, that is all. 
 
 The " Prince, " who had made and lost more 
 money in a single day, than the " Pirate " accum 
 ulated in a whole year, placed little value upon money. 
 It was useful to make his darling happy. He was 
 going to gratify her ambitious whim, because her 
 heart was set upon it. That she would ever make 
 any money, that she would ever return the loan, 
 were things he made no more calculation upon, than 
 he made upon gathering together and selling the 
 smoke which had gone up from the thousands of 
 cigars he had consumed. There was nothing 
 mercenary in the " Prince's " love, and there was 
 little passion. Why? Simply because neither prin 
 ciple dominated his own existence. The one grand 
 want of his being was a pure woman to love and 
 serve; and by this one grand want was his own love 
 purified made valuable. 
 
 The "Pirate " loved Ola Del. But can you expect 
 a man who has made a moderate fortune by fifty 
 years of toil and self-denial, to change the habits of 
 a lifetime, simply because he has learned to love a 
 woman who was born in another sphere of life? 
 Teach yourself to expect only the reasonable, and not
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 to be disappointed if you don't get even that. He 
 sold her pictures for her, and he returned her more 
 money than she could have gotten for them. He kept 
 some of it? Yes, true enough. But if he married 
 her, this money would come back to her, and if he 
 were not to do so, he did not want to have to count 
 all the time devoted to her service as lost. His 
 whole life had been greed, barter, the getting the best 
 of every bargain made. Do not expect his love to be 
 above the level of his life? No spring can rise above 
 its source, no love will be holier than the heart in 
 which it is born. The " Pirate " loved Ola Del ; and 
 his love was as pusillanimous, as mean, as mercenary, 
 as he was himself. Why not? Are not the parts 
 always of the same material as the whole? 
 
 He knew she was above him? So much the 
 better. He would, for that very reason, also get the 
 best of this love-bargain. That was why he loved 
 her; because his love also took form and color from 
 the medium through which it passed. It was love, 
 nevertheless, the only kind of which he was capable. 
 
 Ola did not know the " Pirate " charged her a 
 commission for selling her pictures, but had she 
 known it, she would have been glad of it. The sell 
 ing of these trifles furnished him with an excuse for 
 seeing her. She would not permit him to talk of his 
 love, but she could not prevent him from devouring 
 her with his lecherous eyes. 
 
 The Captain of the " Grant " called again to see 
 her, and was presented to Nell, who was in the par 
 lor. Nell's being in the parlor was an irritation to
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 the Captain of the " Grant. " He was there on busi 
 ness. He wanted to cruise around, take bearings, 
 drop a sounding line ; and Nell's presence rather mili 
 tated against this. He assumed considerable naval 
 dignity, and Nell, feeling "de trop," soon left them. 
 Thus the first shot of the Captain brought down its 
 victim ; and, that naval dignity having been ministered 
 to and somewhat appeased, he thawed out a bit. But 
 he could not make up his mind about the channel 
 where it was, or the force of the current. If he 
 dropped a line, trying to sound Ola as to her feelings 
 for Lieutenant Benners, he might raise a squall which 
 would sink his little craft and ruin his expedition; he 
 must be cautious. He cruised around and around ; 
 he made many attempts at dropping that line, but he 
 was afraid. 
 
 It will scarcely be believed that the Captain of 
 the " Grant " was afraid to sound Ola Del about 
 Lieutenant Benners, and the state of affairs at present 
 existing between them. How could it be that a 
 brave and gallant man, who had taken part, and 
 a part covered with glory, too, in one of the most re 
 markable marine battles of the War between the 
 States, should now be afraid of this little woman? 
 Listen ! In the war he had many shots which he 
 could fire, Then, also, he could shoot and run away, 
 and so come back and shoot again. But this affair 
 was different. He must make an ally, not an enemy 
 of this woman; hence, he must capitulate. Had the 
 question been one of fighting, the Captain would have 
 been at ease, as he was a master hand at fighting; but 
 
 152
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 his talents were not of the diplomatic order. S:>, 
 poor fellow, he felt afraid. Extend your pity to him, 
 and your congratulations to Ola that, for once in the 
 world's history, a brave officer in the United States 
 Navy felt fear, and she was the woman so honored 
 by the fates as to cause that fear. 
 
 After considerable desultory talk, and when the 
 evening was drawing near that hour at which respect 
 able married men who are calling upon artists with 
 whom they have no possible business, should go home, 
 the Captain of the " Grant " called his valor up with 
 a fife and drum, metaphorically speaking, and said, 
 " Did I understand you to say, Mrs. Del, that you 
 are acquainted with Lieutenant Benners?" 
 
 "Yes," said Ola. 
 
 " Well," thought the Captain, that is not very 
 encouraging, to say the most. " 
 
 " You found him very pleasant, I suppose ? " 
 
 " Yes, " said Ola, softly. Her tone was modulated 
 by her memory of the Lieutenant, and not by her 
 desire to be courteous to the Captain. It is humili 
 ating to be obliged to admit this, but it is a fact. And 
 it may as well be mentioned right here, that anything 
 in reference to the navy, said or done by Ola Del, 
 must be duly discounted. The foolish little thing 
 was much predjudiced against the navy, in general, 
 and in favor of Lieutenant Benners in particular. 
 
 " Humph, " thought the Captain, "I don't seem to 
 be making much headway. " Then aloud, " To what 
 do you suppose Benners is indebted for his wonderful 
 success among women?" 
 
 153
 
 THAT MAN PROM WALL STREET 
 
 " I never gave the matter the least thought. In 
 fact, I did not know that he was wonderfully suc 
 cessful with women. " " That's a fib, " thought Ola, 
 " but it will do for him. He is a man, and an officer 
 of the navy, to boot; it's better than he deserves." 
 
 "That's a lie," thought the Captain of the 
 " Grant, " " but she's a woman, and is evidently in 
 love with Benners. What better could I except of 
 her. " The Captain of the " Grant " hoisted a flag 
 of truce, and resolved to return to the attack on some 
 future occasion, with reinforcements in the shape of 
 a younger and better looking man. He would invite 
 Cameron to call with him. Cameron would make a 
 conquest, he felt sure of that; and this would hurt 
 Benners even more than to be supplanted by him 
 self, the Captain. 
 
 Accordingly he returned to his Revenue Marine 
 Steamship, the " Grant, " and, watching an opportunity 
 to speak where Lieutenant Benners could and must 
 hear him, but where it would appear as if the remark 
 were not intended for his ears, he said, " Cameron, 
 I'm going to make a call to-night on the daintiest bit 
 of femininity I've seen in many a day. Don't you 
 want to go along?" 
 
 Of course Cameron wanted to go along. " Who 
 is the woman? " he asked. 
 
 " A Mrs. Del ; an artist. There seems to be two 
 of them in the same apartment, as near as I can tell, 
 so I suppose a handsome fellow like you can have 
 your pick, and I'll be contented to take the one you 
 leave. " 
 
 154
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 Then the Captain stole a sly glance at Lieutenant 
 Benners, and said to himself, " How do you like it, 
 old man?" Lieutenant Benners gave little token of 
 how he liked it. In fact, he did not care much about 
 it, anyhow, one way or the other. He imagined 
 Comeron would rush into making love to Ola, get 
 squelched for his impudence, and that would be 
 the end of it. So let them go. It was his night on; 
 he would scribble a few lines to some of those fond 
 ones he had left behind him in various ports in 
 which his ship had been stationed. To-morrow night 
 he would be off. Ola was not the only dainty little 
 woman in New York. No, sir ; he could testify to that. 
 
 155
 
 CHAPTER XIV. 
 
 " A constant stream of hypnotic power exuded from 
 every pore of my skin." 
 
 " Ola, that's his Umptiousity, " said Nell, who 
 had gone to the door when the bell rang. 
 
 "And may I ask who his Umptiousity is?" 
 
 " Why, didn't you recognize his 'Is Mrs. Del in? ' ' 
 said Nell, in the stentorian voice of the Captain of the 
 " Grant. " 
 
 Ola laughed. " No, I didn't, but I know whom 
 you mean now. " 
 
 " Of course you do ; and he's got the handsomest 
 chap with him that ever swaggered. If you don't want 
 him, after you've seen him, turn him over to me, 
 please, " said Nell, looking mischievously at Jack. 
 
 " I will give him to you now, Nell, " said Ola. 
 " without ever having seen him. I don't think I care 
 for any more navy. " 
 
 " Will you? What a dear girl you are. Good 
 bye, Jack, " and Nell blew Jack a kiss from the tips 
 of her fingers. 
 
 " Good-bye, Jill," said Jack, returning the salu 
 tation. " If 'the handsomest chap that ever swag 
 gered, ' gets tired of you, come back to one who 
 won't. " 
 
 " Now, how could I leave such a fellow as you 
 156
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 are? " said Nell, and she went up to the rocking chair 
 in which Jack was sitting and sat down on one of its 
 broad arms. " Jack, if you only could make money. " 
 
 " Oh, I could if I wanted to, but what's the use? 
 It's a dreadful bore, and I get along quite comfort 
 ably without it. " 
 
 Ola left them to their happiness, but she sighed 
 as she went out of the room. 
 
 The Captain presented Mr. Cameron. In reflect 
 ing upon the ill success of his first call, the Captain 
 had decided that women are mercenary little wretches, 
 so, thinking perhaps Ola would be more approachable 
 from a business point of view, he began to talk with 
 her about some designs, for which he had no possible 
 use. Mr. Cameron, following the Captain's lead, sud 
 denly found that he had need of a decorated banner. 
 Ola listened attentively. The Captain said she could 
 let him know the cost by writing to the " Grant. " 
 
 " Thank you. I'll write in a few days, " said Ola. 
 
 They did not stay long. Unfortunately, this 
 " shop talk " had frozen what little geniality Ola 
 felt, and she could not be sociable. 
 
 When they reached the street, Cameron said, 
 " Did you ever see anything so frigid? " 
 
 " Not since I left the Arctics, " said the Captain. 
 
 A few days later, the Captain received the fol 
 lowing letter from Ola : 
 
 157
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 "New York, December I5th. 
 " Captain Calhoun, 
 " My dear Sir : 
 
 " I shall not be able to execute the order 
 you left with me a few evenings ago. 
 
 " My time, at present, is about all occupied with 
 work and study. I could, and perhaps I should, put 
 aside something of little or no profit, to attend to 
 your and Mr. Cameron's request; but I make it a 
 rule not to have any business relations with any one 
 with whom I am, or could be, on terms of social 
 equality. 
 
 " It is possible, if you really want the work of 
 which you spoke, that Miss Thome would be glad 
 to oblige you, Miss Thome's views and my own, 
 upon subjects of business being at great variance. 
 
 " If you will kindly accept my thanks for your 
 charitable intent to contribute to my daily bread, and 
 express my regrets to Mr. Cameron that I am unable 
 to oblige him, you will place under many obligations, 
 
 " OLA DEL." 
 
 " I wonder if God himself understands a woman, ' 
 said the Captain of the " Grant, " as he tossed this 
 letter to Cameron. You may be sure that Lieutenant 
 Benners was not around then. Cameron had given 
 Benners " a good, stiff bluff " when the latter asked 
 him how he had enjoyed his call on Mrs. Del, by 
 going into ecstacies about Ola. Having taken this 
 
 158
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 stand with the Lieutenant, Mr. Cameron was neces 
 sarily bound to try to keep up the acquaintance with 
 Ola in order not to be obliged to confess his defeat. 
 He asked the Captain's permission to answer this 
 letter. In his reply, Mr. Cameron said just about 
 nothing, except to express his thanks for the pleasure 
 of her acquaintance, and his intention to call and con 
 sult Miss Thome. 
 
 He did call. There is a beneficent Providence 
 that watches over naval officers, as well as the rest 
 of us, it is hoped. Nell was out, and it was one of 
 those uncertain "outs," when she might be back at any 
 moment. 'Would Mr. Cameron wait?' 'Yes, Mr. 
 Cameron would wait,' and he did wait all the 
 evening, and still Nell did not come. Ola felt her 
 self obligated to be gracious to Nell's patron, and in 
 so doing she succeeded in impressing upon Mr. Cam 
 eron the belief that "she was about as nice as they 
 make 'em. " At least that is what he told Lieutenant 
 Benners the next day. 
 
 By this time the Lieutenant, concerning Cameron 
 and Ola, had come to feel a trifle like the famous dog 
 that lay in a manger; but he would not acknowledge 
 it, even to himself. ' He didn't care; why should he? 
 There were plenty of women.' But there was that 
 dread uncertainty as to just what position in Ola's 
 affections Cameron had reached. He noticed that they 
 corresponded. He could tell her writing as far as 
 he could see it. 
 
 Mr. Cameron first sent Ola a photographic copy 
 of a piece of statuary. He did not write a word; 
 
 159
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 just enclosed his card. Naturally she wrote, thanking 
 him; that was the beginning. Then a clipping from 
 some paper, concerning matters of art; then a maga 
 zine. He was shrewd enough never to send any 
 thing of sufficiently great value to give her an excuse 
 for returning it. Then they went to the theatre to 
 gether, and Ola really began to think him " quite 
 nice ; " she almost forgave him for belonging to 
 the navy, and if he were to go on gaining in her 
 good graces, it was only a question of time when she 
 would condone the crime of his being on the " Grant. " 
 All this time he raved about her to the Lieutenant, 
 enjoying the effect amazingly. Ola had told Mr. 
 Cameron that she had once known the Lieutenant; 
 but as Benners did not know this, he considered him 
 self bound by his promise not to mention her name 
 to any of the officers of his vessel. One day, shortly 
 after one of the men had brought the mail from the 
 custom house, the Lieutenant noticed Mr. Cameron 
 reading a long letter which he knew to be from Ola, 
 and over which Mr. Cameron seemed to be greatly 
 amused. 
 
 " You have a fat letter, Cameron, and it seems to 
 tickle you immensely, " said he. 
 
 Mr. Cameron looked up. There was a tantalizing 
 twinkle in his eye. " You are a sly old dog, Benners. " 
 he said. 
 
 "What's the matter now?" said the Lieutenant. 
 
 " Here you've let me go on making a fool of my 
 self, talking of Mrs. Del, and it seems she is all the 
 time a friend of yours. " The Lieutenant did not 
 
 160
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 say anything and Cameron continued : " Sit down. 
 It would be the rankest selfishness in me not to let 
 you enjoy this. I tell you, that woman is one in ten 
 thousand. " Then Mr. Cameron read : 
 
 " My dear Mr. Cameron : 
 
 " I have been gorging my intellectual digestive 
 organs (?) with studies on hypnotism. Some strange 
 papers have come under my notice. There is within 
 me a morbid something which finds its greatest delight 
 in chasing after the occult. I have never been able to 
 get any actual satisfaction from this pursuit, for the 
 reason that my judgment is forced continually to cast 
 out so much as undemonstrated suppositions or un 
 proved statements, that there invariably remains little 
 upon which to work; unless one wishes to give one 
 self over to vain delusions, to fancies that are akin 
 to madness. 
 
 " But, to return. With one of the most wierd 
 of these papers in my hand, I retired, finishing my 
 reading in bed. 
 
 " For some time after I had turned out the light, 
 I found difficulty in going to sleep. And when 
 finally I did sleep, it was not that dreamless slumber 
 which is so refreshing to mind and body; but rather 
 an activity of the imagination, in which that faculty 
 goes rollicking and rioting around, rejoicing in its 
 emancipation from the shackles of reason. 
 
 "I dreamed, oh, how I dreamed! And in my 
 dreams this passed before me or, rather, this I 
 passed through : 
 
 161
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 " My bell rang, and my deaf-mute eunuch ser 
 vant opened to Lieutenant Benners. How in the 
 world that deaf-mute, being a deaf-mute, heard the 
 bell, I shall not attempt to solve for you. We will 
 place that to the mysteries and happiness of the 
 dream. 
 
 " But to return to my visitor. The moment my 
 hand touched Lieutenant Benners', I realized that 
 ' power went out from me ;' that the man was mine 
 to command. 
 
 " Now, be it understood, I have so often, in my 
 waking hours, been told by gentlemen that I might 
 order their lives to my own liking, and have sorrow 
 fully learned the proffered surrender was hedged by 
 the mental reservation that my liking must accord 
 with their own, that I stepped fearfully on the sur 
 render preserves in Lieutenant Benners' case, lest, as 
 upon former occasions, I should find my feet in quick 
 sands. 
 
 " No fear. My power was absolute. He sat or 
 stood or reclined or sank on his knees, or did any 
 thing else I bade him. I put a soft pillow under his 
 head and stretched him out on that couch which you 
 must remember. Then I pressed his lids gently down 
 over his eyes, and, holding them for an instant, I 
 said : ' Sleep ! sleep with the unconsciousness of 
 death. ' 
 
 " ' And immediately a deep sleep came upon him ' 
 a sleep so profound that I was sure I could remove a 
 rib with as little pain to the patient as when the 
 Great Jehovah performed that operation on Adam, and 
 
 162
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 thereby furnished the father of all mankind with a 
 woman as an excuse for his sins. 
 
 " My goodness, how I digress ! I looked at my 
 sleeper and thought : ' What shall I do to demon 
 strate that he does not suffer?' Nothing suggested 
 itself except to remove that irritating blue tattoo 
 mark on his little ringer, which is so offensive to my 
 sight. This I did. 
 
 " Then while he slept on like a mummy, I called 
 my servant and told him to take off, to the 
 last vestige, Lieutenant Benners' clothing; and, 
 having done so, to place the sleeper comfortably in 
 bed and bring the clothes to me. I was obeyed. I 
 then dressed myself in the Lieutenant's clothes. I 
 remember how I laughed when I niticed how large 
 the shirt collar was, and how my feet shambled along 
 in those great shoes. 
 
 " By the sign language I told my servant to 
 guard the house and the sleeper until my return. Then 
 I sallied forth to join the other officers of the U. S. 
 Steamship, ' Grant.' 
 
 " No one disturbed me. No one seemed to take 
 the least congnizance of my ill-fitting attire. By 
 degrees I came to know that a constant stream of 
 hypnotic power exuded from me. In fact, all who- 
 walked within sight of me were at once the vassals, 
 of my peculiar power. To all the world, except my 
 self, I actually was Lieutenant Benners; there was 
 nothing ungainly or improper in my clothing; my 
 smooth face carried a moustache, as also an indication 
 of a needed shave ; my feminine, skirt-hampered walk. 
 
 163
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 was changed into a sort of 'sad-sea-dog-from-shle- 
 to-side swagger.' 
 
 " For the first time in my life I felt the joy of 
 living. 
 
 " I boarded the ' Grant ' as naturaly and easily as 
 if I had been used to it all my life, and got into my 
 bunk. You came to my door and said, 'Hello,Ben- 
 ners, are you asleep ? ' 
 
 " ' No, ' I said, ' come in. ' 
 
 " You came in and thumped yourself down on the 
 foot of my bed pardon me, I mean of the foot of 
 my bunk. 
 
 " ' I can't sleep, for the life of me, ' said you. 
 
 " ' What's the trouble? ' said I. 
 
 "'Oh, I don't know;' then a long pause; then, 
 ' Benners, do you understand, can you, did you ever 
 understand a woman?' 
 
 " I laughed and said, ' So that's it, is it? ' 
 
 " You remained in a moody silence and did not 
 appear to appreciate my sympathy. So, changing 
 tack : ' You mustn't even try to understand women, 
 Cameron. That is not what they are for. Yours is 
 the mistake so many men make, and it is exactly the 
 reason they get along so poorly with women. There 
 is one rule to follow, and that one rule will do for 
 them all at least it has always worked well with me. ' 
 Here you raised up and looked hopefully at me, so I 
 continued, ' just be a thorough innuendoist. ' 
 
 "'Now for God's sake what's an innuendoist?' 
 said you eagerly. 
 
 " ' An innuendoist is a man skilled in innuendoes, 
 164
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 hints, insinuations ; one who never makes actual 
 statements. You may kiss a woman, if you want to; 
 that means much or nothing, just as the girl has a 
 mind to take it. Give her a box of candy, varied oc 
 casionally with a few flowers, but be careful not to 
 overdo it. And above all things, never tell a woman, 
 in so many words, that you love her. ' 
 
 " ' But suppose I do love her, and want to know if 
 my love is returned ? ' you anxiously asked. 
 
 " ' But you musn't. That spoils everything. The 
 noblest woman will become the veriest tyrant, and 
 show it too, if she sees she can. I was never guilty 
 of the folly myself, but I have seen others try it. ' 
 
 " ' Do you mean to tell me that you were never 
 in love?' you asked. 
 
 " ' No, never; ' said I. 
 
 ' Then how the devil can you tell a man who is 
 in love what to do? I wonldn't give a damn to buy 
 candy and flowers and books for a lot of petticoats 
 I don't care a cuss for,' (I beg pardon for putting this 
 profanity into your mouth, but we are none of us re 
 sponsible for what we dream.) Let me continue : ' I 
 want one I can love, and I want her to love me, ' you 
 said. 
 
 " ' Don't ! You won't be happy while you live, 
 and you won't live as long, ' I said. 
 
 : ' Oh, you be damned, with your hypocrisy.' 
 (Beg pardon again) and then, you surly fellow, you 
 went out of my room. 
 
 " In my dream it did not occur to me there was 
 anything strange in my expressing sentiments so 
 
 165
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 contrary to what I actually feel. The reflection of 
 my waking moments is that I must have absorbed 
 those sentiments from the Benners' clothes. 
 
 " Among the various things I had to do while I 
 was on the ' Grant, ' was to keep the 'wind watch. 
 In point of fact I do not know a ' wind watch ' from 
 a city-hall clock, or a Tiffany chronometer; I never 
 theless wound that ' wind watch ' to the taste of a 
 lord high admiral. 
 
 " I'll let you into a little secret, which is not to 
 be passed along, mind you; namely, to wit: The 
 principal thing a naval officer has to do is to sign the 
 pay roll, wear a uniform, and select as many sweet 
 hearts as may happen to be congenial to his taste, in 
 every port in which his vessel anchors over night. 
 
 " I hobnobbed with the Captain, who was a little 
 superficial in his hospitality. (Mighty bad taste on 
 his part.) Of course it was on account of that New 
 port affair. (In my waking moments I haven't a 
 ghost of an idea what that affair at Newport was, but 
 I seemed to understand it perfectly then.) 
 
 " I discovered that I got more letters from 
 women than all the other officers on the ' Grant, ' put 
 together. 
 
 " I remember that the satisfaction I took in read 
 ing them was not owing to any vital interest I felt 
 in the writer, but simply because I was sustaining my 
 reputation as a Don Juan by those missives of love, 
 lengthy and otherwise. 
 
 " A beautiful youth, not more than eighteen, I 
 should fancv, came staggering along the deck late 
 
 166
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 one night. Drunk! Oh, how drunk! My heart 
 ached. He was only a common sailor, but he was 
 young and so handsome. By a strange freak I for 
 got I was a man. I felt like a woman, like a mother 
 to that boy; and I told him so. Bursting out into a 
 drunken, insulting laugh, he said, 'Aw, get along! 
 What are you givin' us? A damned pretty mother 
 you are, Benners. ' 
 
 " Then I knew the boy was also hypnotized. 
 
 " I put my hand in his and. said : ' See me as 
 I am, my boy/ and I led him to a bench, where both of 
 us sat down. He, besides myself, was the only one 
 who knew I was a woman. All through the night 
 we sat there, and the 'wind watch' wound itself up 
 automatically. The steamship ' Grant ' was rocked 
 gently by the tide, while I told my boy many sweet 
 things, many beautiful things a mother can feel. We 
 promised each other we would live for one another; 
 he should be my son, I his mother; he should leave 
 the navy and do something respectable. (It goes 
 without saying that, in my waking moments, I should 
 not have insinuated a lack of respectability as one 
 of the characteristics of the United States Navy.) 
 
 " I took my beautiful boy home with me. 
 
 " My deaf-mute dressed Lieutenant Benners and 
 put him back on the couch. I waked him. He did 
 not know that he had slept one moment, but he had 
 lain there seven days. In that time I had gone through 
 the gamut of all the wicked things men do ; from get 
 ting drunk to seducing my best friend's wife (how 
 much those clothes of the Lieutenant were respon- 
 
 167
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 sible for), and had finally, of my own accord, laid all 
 those seductive attributes of masculinity aside, for the 
 purer pleasure of being a woman and a mother. 
 
 " Through almost limitless space does the soul 
 travel in one brief hour. My boy, my beautiful boy, 
 was with me ; I loved him and he loved me. His bright 
 face filled my soul with joy. My life was full. 
 
 " Alas ! Alas ! from my pinnacle of happiness, I 
 fell to most profound sorrow. My deaf-mute, in 
 jealous anger, murdered my boy before my very eyes. 
 And, catching me by the hair of the head, was about 
 to cut my throat; when, with a loud scream, I awoke, 
 jerking a plentiful supply of my hair out with the 
 clasp of a bracelet I had on my arm. 
 
 " I had slept less than an hour. 
 
 " Now, I wonder, if to any extent my dream was 
 true to life. Did I live the life of a man? Or was the 
 whole horribleness of the thing toned down by my 
 woman's fancy? Is it because I have settled down to 
 the belief that all men are promiscuous and unprin 
 cipled, as far as women are concerned, and naval 
 officers essentially and particularly so, that in my 
 dreams I put such words in Lieutenant Benners' 
 mouth? If so, where did I find the bits of genuine 
 sentiment which you expressed ? 
 
 " Ship ahoy ! Land ahead ! It was but the echo 
 of a hope, deep-hidden in my own heart, that some 
 where on this earth there lives and breathes a true 
 man, and ah, selfishness sublime ! that I may find 
 him. 
 
 " Would a deaf-mute eunuch be capable of 
 168
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 jealousy? Can there be in such a masculine a mur 
 derous appropriativeness which would prompt its 
 owner to prevent, at any cost, a woman from being 
 happy with any love bestowed upon another or re 
 ceived from another? 
 
 " Can you give all these questions answer? 
 
 " Your friend, 
 
 " OLA DEL." 
 
 169
 
 CHAPTER XV. 
 
 " Had I known of your love in time, I would not have 
 trespassed. But it is too late now. 
 
 Mr. Cameron interspersed the reading of this 
 letter with much laughter and frequent remarks not 
 calculated to harmonize well with Lieutenant Ben- 
 ners' fastidious tastes. 
 
 At the conclusion of the reading, the Lieutenant 
 simply remarked, "A well-written and interesting let 
 ter. " Then he went away to his room and felt ugly. 
 He was not in touch with the mirthful feelings of Cam 
 eron. Had he expressed himself in the slang of the 
 age he would have said : " Excuse me but I don't see 
 where the laugh comes in. " Naturally not ; people 
 seldom do when the laugh is at their expense. But 
 Mr. Cameron saw where the laugh came in ; and to 
 him the most enjoyable feature of the whole affair was 
 Lieutenant Benners' evident pique. 
 
 The Lieutenant said to himself, " What do I 
 care about either the letter or the woman ? " And 
 then he answered his own question most emphatically 
 by saying, "Nothing. " But he went on thinking 
 about the letter and the woman. With a feeling of 
 satisfaction he reflected that it was a very different 
 sort of epistle from those she used to write him. 
 Why should he care whom she loved? He did not 
 
 170
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 care. She naturally would love some one; but, con~ 
 found it! why should she have fallen to Cameron's 
 lot? It was not pleasant for him to be obliged to 
 listen to the man's lovesick encomiums of Ola. The 
 particulary fine point about this which nettled him 
 was, that while he assured himself there were plenty 
 of women, it had still been more easy for him to boast 
 that he could supply her place at an hour's notice, 
 than it had been to do so. 
 
 Would she ever be to Cameron what she had 
 been to him? He did not, he would not believe it. 
 But she might. Well, if she did? Why should he 
 care? Why? That was a big question Lieutenant 
 Benners asked himself. Who, in his, or another's 
 behalf, can answer it? He was almost tempted to try 
 to get her back. Not that he wanted her, but simply 
 to show Cameron 'where the laugh came in.' No, he 
 did not want her; he was quite sure of that. But, 
 supposing he did, how was it to be done? There could 
 be no harm in speculating on that. So he contrived 
 ways and means or at least he tried to. 
 
 Here again he found himself balked. Oh, well, 
 let it go; he did not want her. It was time for 
 luncheon ; but the meal did not suit him any better 
 than anything else. He had a worse and a still worse 
 opinion of that cook. The dinner last night had been 
 bad. It was Cameron's month to cater, perhaps that 
 had something to do with it. Then he checked him 
 self for being unreasonable. It was his day off, he 
 would go into the city and amuse himself. After the 
 meal was over, Cameron came to the door and handed 
 
 171
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 the Lieutenant two French novels which he, Cameron 
 had borrowed two or three months before. Mr. Cam 
 eron apologized for having kept them for so long, he 
 had forgotten them. 
 
 " By the way, Benners, who made the marginal 
 notes and pencilings? " 
 
 " I don't know. Why ? " said the Lieutenant, as 
 he carelessly turned over the leaves of the books. 
 
 " Oh, nothing; only they somehow remind me of 
 Ola, " said Cameron as he walked away. 
 
 When he said he did not know who made those 
 marginal notes, Lieutenant Benners had told one of 
 those princely falsehoods, which rest so easily on the 
 masculine conscience. He knew perfectly well. Ola 
 had given him the books to read, but he was not easy 
 in French, so he had not bothered. "'So he calls her 
 Ola, does he?" said the Lieutenant to himself. "I 
 wonder if he has thawed her out enough to attempt 
 that familiarit}^ in her presence? By gracious, I never 
 got that far. " 
 
 Well, here was a sickly excuse for writing to her. 
 He would return those books. But why not just send 
 them through the mails? She would know from 
 whom they came. That did not seem to "strike him 
 favorably," so he wrote : 
 
 ' My Dear Mrs. Del : 
 
 " A brother officer to whom, feeling sure of your 
 willingness, I loaned a couple of books belonging to 
 you, has but this moment returned them to me. I 
 
 172
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 must ask your pardon for having kept them so long; 
 the fact is that both my friend and myself forgot them. 
 " I shall be pleased to learn from you, with my 
 most sincere thanks for the favor, how and when I 
 may return your property. 
 
 " Very truly your friend, 
 
 "ADRIAN BENNERS." 
 
 He posted this letter with his own hands, and 
 felt in a trifle better humor. 
 
 When she read the Lieutenant's letter, Ola said 
 to herself, the while smiling and shaking her head : 
 " Oh, no, my handsome Lieutenant, oh, no ; I am 
 much happier now than I was when you were in 
 power. I have my ' Prince ' to worship me, though 
 I don't see much of him he is too busy making 
 money. I have my ' Pirate,' to disgust me ; I have my 
 friends to amuse me; and, last, my dear Lieutenant, 
 I have that handsome Mr. Cameron, of whom I am 
 sure you are not over-fond, to bring me candy, and to 
 take me to the theatre. And he suits me much better 
 than you did. I am a little afraid he is going to ask 
 me to marry him ; they all want to marry me, or 
 worse, but never mind that. That Revenue Marine 
 Steamship 'Grant,' is an excellent place for you to 
 stay, dear. It's just exactly the distance I like to 
 have you from me, dear." So she wrote : 
 
 " Lieutenant Banners, 
 " My dear Sir : 
 
 " The books of which you wrote are not worth 
 173
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 the postage it would take to send them. Though 
 written by the best French authors, they are soiled 
 and tattered, and it's always offensive to have such 
 things around the house. Throw them overboard 
 when you are out at sea. 
 
 " Yours, 
 
 " OLA." 
 
 The only consolation Lieutenant Benners got out 
 of this letter was that the signature, " Yours, Ola, " 
 seemed to indicate he was not completely unrooted. 
 
 The " Grant " cruised around and came back. The 
 first evening they were in New York was Cameron's 
 night off. Wishing to go ashore himself, the Lieu 
 tenant asked Mr. Cameron to relieve him. 
 
 " I would like to, old man," Cameron replied, "but 
 I can't. There is some one at the other end waiting for 
 me. I will be here to relieve you in the morning, and 
 will stay a couple of days if you want me to, but 
 to-night I have promised ; it is dedicated. " 
 
 There was no help for it, the Lieutenant had to 
 stay ; and Mr. Cameron went to that " some one at 
 the other end " who was " waiting for him. " He did 
 not come back until the grey dawn, either. Benners 
 remembered bitterly the morning he had seen the sun 
 rise, and where he had been. He felt as if Mr. Cam 
 eron had wronged him. It formed no part of Cam 
 eron's plan to tell the Lieutenant that he had not seen 
 Ola at all that night ; let Benners wince ; what did he 
 care? 
 
 The Lieutenant now knew he could not sneak 
 174
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 back to Ola's heart or hearth. If he were to get 
 there at all, he must march boldly in with band play 
 ing and colors flying. He wrote her: 
 
 " If I should ask you to see me and hear me at 
 tempt to justify myself (for you wrong me) would you 
 refuse? 
 
 " ADRIAN." 
 
 On the bottom of this note she wrote two words: 
 
 "No. 
 
 " Ola. " 
 
 This was at least a gain. He called. Nell and 
 Jack were in the parlor, so he would 'have no oppor 
 tunity to say anything private to Ola till they went 
 out, and this, Nell seemed not much inclined to do. 
 At the next ringing of the bell who should be ushered 
 in by Lucy but Mr. Cameron, who had got some of 
 the officers to relieve him. The fates were against 
 Benners but Nell was jubilant; and, that she might 
 chuckle to her heart's satisfaction, she and Jack re 
 tired to their own part of the house. Nell was not a 
 bit afraid Mr. Cameron would retreat and leave the 
 field to his rival; she could see that Cameron was in 
 earnest and honest. 
 
 The three in the parlor got along harmoniously 
 together. Ola sent Mr. Cameron to a port-folio in 
 the back parlor to search for an engraving which 
 she knew was not there. Naturally he did not find 
 
 175
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 it. After he had spent some time in the search Ola 
 called out, " What's the matter Mr. Cameron? Is your 
 sight failing you?" She arose, and when she was 
 beside him she said, softly, but not so softly but that 
 Lieutenant Benners could hear her, " Let me help you 
 out of your trouble, since I got you into it. " 
 
 Then she looked at him in a way that made him 
 wish Benners safe at the North Pole without an over 
 coat; and himself in a hammock, under the spreading 
 branch of a tree, in the sweet summer time, with Ola 
 by his side, eating bon-bons. While there was enough 
 in the look which Ola gave Mr. Cameron, to send the 
 blood tingling through his veins, there was nothing in 
 it upon which Liuetenant Benners could found a. 
 charge, even if he had had the right to do so. This he 
 knew and therein lay the discomfort of the situa 
 tion. Suffice it to say that when the two gentlemen 
 took their departure and they went together they 
 carried away with them very diverse sensations. 
 
 It was late when they reached the " Grant, " but 
 they sat down to have a smoke together, and the 
 Lieutenant then said, " Cameron, I have often heard 
 you say that if a friend of yours loved a woman, you 
 would not, if you could, take her from him. " 
 
 " Yes, " responded Mr. Cameron, knowing 
 thoroughly well to what the Lieutenant's remark 
 would lead, and enjoying the embarassment, as only 
 a successful rival can. 
 
 " Well, I love Mrs. Del, Will you prove that you 
 are not an idle boaster by giving her up? " 
 
 " This is not a fair test, Benners. I love Ola, 
 176
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 too. " How it galled the Lieutenant to hear Cameron 
 call her Ola. " You should have told me of your 
 love when you first heard Captain Calhoun ask me to 
 call there. " 
 
 " Yes, I know I should, and I would have done 
 so, but I was under promise to Mrs. Del not to 
 mention her name on board the ' Grant. ' ' ' Then, after 
 a pause, " This rather complicated matters, you see. " 
 
 " Yes, I see, " said Cameron. " But I tell 
 you, old man, I can't do it. Ask me anything but 
 that. Had I known of your love in time, I should 
 not have trespassed. But it is too late now. I love 
 her and I mean to marry her if I can. " 
 
 Lieutenant Benners laughed bitterly. He could 
 not help it. Then he said, " Goodness, man ! do you 
 think she would marry you?" 
 
 "Why not?" said Mr. Cameron, in astonishment. 
 
 "Why not? Because Mrs. Del is an ambitious 
 woman. She would never think of settling down in 
 life on the salary of an officer in the navy. Why, man 
 alive, she makes more money now than you do, " said 
 the Lieutenant, earnestly. 
 
 " That may all be so, but I am not thinking of 
 buying her. If Ola loves me, and I think she does, 
 she is not the woman to cast love away with one 
 hand, that she may take gold up with the other. And, 
 if it comes to that, what have you, in the way of gold, 
 to offer her, any more than I have? " 
 
 " Nothing, " said the Lieutenant, positively and 
 finally. Marriage with Ola Del or any other woman 
 was not in the books of Lieutenant Benners; but 
 
 177
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 he could scarcely proclaim his views to a brother 
 officer who had already declared himself on Honor's 
 side. 
 
 " Well, I reckon I'll turn in. Good night. " 
 
 " Good night. " 
 
 And they both turned in. 
 
 178
 
 CHAPTER XVI. 
 
 How much " water " it takes to make a railroad cost 
 nothing a mile. 
 
 The " Prince " was the busiest man in New York. 
 During the day at his office, and almost every 
 evening at some of the uptown hotels he was plunged 
 deep in his promoting enterprises of various kinds. 
 But Sunday afternoon, about three, he usually joined 
 Ola, Nell and Jack at the flat, where the four had din 
 ner and spent the evening together. 
 
 The first time they sat down to Sunday dinner 
 together in that little dining room, the " Prince " 
 said, "My, how cozy this is! How I shall enjoy a 
 home. I never had one. " 
 
 The table was square just the size for four and 
 there was everywhere an artistic touch and taste man 
 ifested. Jack was Ola's viz-a-viz, and Nell faced the 
 " Prince. " They chatted and ate, and after Lucy 
 had removed the coffee and desert dishes, she placed 
 matches and ash-receivers on the table and then went 
 into the kitchen and closed the door. 
 
 The " Prince " looked inquiringly at Ola, who 
 laughed softly and said, " Don't you want to smoke? " 
 
 "Oh, may we? What of the curtains?" and he 
 glanced at the soft hangings at the windows. 
 
 "We never consult them," said Ola.. 
 
 "No," said Nell, "This is Liberty Hall for ail 
 179
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 of Ola's guests. I have known Jack and ' Bronze ' 
 to fill this room so full of smoke that you could stand 
 all night and pitch it out the window with a snow 
 shovel. " 
 
 As the two men lit their cigars, Jack thought, 
 " The only thing that consoles me for having to wait 
 so long for Nell, is the absolute freedom which, 
 wedded to right doing, dwells here. " The " Prince " 
 was thinking, " Oh, when she is my wife ! " Then 
 to Ola, " It seems an awfully long time since I was 
 here. What have you been doing, Baby?" 
 
 " Daubing. And you ? " 
 
 " Oh, darling, I have been awfully busy. It has 
 been a very exciting week. Money is easy and capital 
 can be obtained for any good enterprise. " 
 
 " Heavens, Jack, why don't you shin around and 
 get a good enterprise ? You know how much we want 
 money, " said Nell. 
 
 " I am afraid I haven't much talent in that line, " 
 said Jack. " I suppose you have all sorts of schemes 
 and schemers come to you?" he added, looking at the 
 " Prince. " 
 
 " And off-color and on, I suppose," said Ola. 
 
 " Yes, indeed. Now, for instance, there is one that 
 came to me last week. James H. Edwards, a re 
 tired banker, asked me if I could find a market for 
 one million dollars worth of defaulted securities, " 
 and the " Prince " took a slip of paper out of his coat 
 pocket upon which was a list of said defaulted 
 securities, and handed it to Nell, who read aloud: 
 
 " Sixteen hundred shares of the M. R. & O. R. R. 
 1 80
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 stock. One hundred of the D. S. & V. ; five hundred 
 of the M. S. & D. ; seven hundred, S. M. & A. ; three 
 $1,000 M. B. Y. & H. bonds; four $1,000 C. R. & C. A. 
 bonds; ninety-seven $1,000 H. & Y. N. bonds; four 
 $500 H. & Y. N. bonds; thirty-one $1,000 L. S. & H. 
 bonds; two hundred $2,500 L. S. & H. preferred real 
 estate bonds. 
 
 " Excuse my stupidity, but what are defaulted 
 securities?" said Nell, when she had finished this 
 reading. 
 
 " Defaulted securities are the securities of com 
 panies that have defaulted in their own interest, and 
 are in bankruptcy, or in the hands of a receiver, " said 
 the " Prince. " 
 
 " But if they are bankrupt, of what earthly good 
 are their securities?" said Ola. 
 
 The " Prince " looked just as lovingly at his pre 
 cious little ignoramus as he could have done had she 
 know all the ropes of Wall Street, and replied, " There 
 are people who buy up these securities when they 
 can be bought for comparatively nothing, and hold 
 them with the expectation that they may in the 
 future become valuable. But usually they are 
 bought up by dealers who trade in that kind of 
 securities, and sell them to merchants, bankers and 
 corporations about to become bankrupt, or on the 
 verge of failure, to be used as assets ; which is all 
 very good for the corporations, but rather rough on 
 the creditors. " 
 
 " Well, did you find a buyer for these defaulted 
 securities? " said Ola. 
 
 181
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 " Yes, I said to Edwards, just name a lump sum 
 you will give me, if I find a purchaser. He agreed 
 upon a hundred and fifty dollars. Then I went to old 
 Jake Israel, told him of the securities, asked if he 
 could use them ; he thought he could. Said I, ' How 
 much in a lump sum will you give me? ' ' How much 
 do you want? ' said he. ' Two hundred dollars, ' said 
 I. ' Can't do it, York, ' said he, ' there are very few 
 of them that have any actual worth. I'll give you a 
 hundred.' ' All right, Jake,' said I, then I turned 
 him over to Edwards. After they get through 
 wrangling about the price, I'll get my commission. " 
 
 " Is there anything in the world a Jew won t 
 buy?" said Nell. She had no love for the Jews, they 
 drove too hard a bargain to suit her. 
 
 " A Jew is right out on the make every time, and 
 will buy or sell almost anything except his wife and 
 babies, " said Mr. York. 
 
 "Do they draw the line there?" said Nell. 
 
 " I guess so ; from what I know of men, I have 
 about come to the conclusion that the Jews are 
 generally good to women, if it's wife or sweetheart; 
 better, as a rule, than other men. But if they catch 
 a fellow short, they squeeze him and make him let 
 go of as much as they can get out of him." 
 
 " Are they any worse than Jay Gould or Russell 
 Sage or any of the rest of that impecunious crowd? '' 
 said Jack. 
 
 " Not a bit. I owe Gould one myself, and I think 
 I've got something now that I can even up a part of 
 that on. The C. C. & B. Railroad, in the State of 
 
 182
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 Arkansas, has sixty miles completed and in operation, 
 and is capable of being extended and becoming a 
 valuable property. The road grew out of a log road, 
 that is, a road built for the purpose of getting out 
 lumber. It started with wooden rails, and from that 
 went to light iron rails thirty-five pounds and a nar 
 row-gauge. Lately it has been changed to a standard 
 gauge and heavier rails sixty pounds. The road has 
 paid for itself, as it was built for the lumber traffic. 
 
 " I think I have a market for this road, as it should 
 become part of Gould's system. It is bonded for 
 fifteen thousand dollars per mile, and is only paying 
 interest on thirteen thousand dollars a mile. But by 
 extending it to connect with the Iron Mountain as 
 one terminus, and the H. E. & W. as another, it 
 would then become a dividend-paying property. I 
 can buy this entire property in for five hundred and 
 fifty thousand dollars, something over eight thousand 
 dollars a mile. I think I shall be able to unload this 
 on Gould at fifteen thousand dollars a mile, and get 
 seventy-five on the bonds, thus making a cool profit of 
 two hundred thousand dollars. " 
 
 Ola laughed. " Yes, Jay Gould is just the man to 
 give* fifteen thousand dollars a mile for a road that 
 can be bought for eight thousand. " 
 
 The " Prince " looked at his little darling, more 
 than pleased that she should be so quick to see a 
 weak spot in a bargain. He smiled sweetly upon her, 
 patted her cheek with his hand, and said, " Let me ex 
 plain, Baby. He can't get it for eight thousand dol 
 lars a mile, for when I present the enterprise to him 
 
 '83
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 the road will be mine. But I think I can convince him 
 that he can get it for nothing. I will agree to deliver 
 the road to Gould, completed. When he takes posses 
 sion of it he can ' water it ' for enough to have it cost 
 him nothing. " 
 
 They all laughed merrily at the argument the 
 " Prince " would use on the " Little Wizard. " The 
 bell rang, and presently Lucy announced : " Lieu 
 tenant Benners is in the parlor, Mrs. Del." 
 
 " Ask the Lieutenant to join us here," and turn 
 ing to the others, she remarked, " Did you ever notice 
 that the walls of a room become charged with good- 
 fellowship, and when the congenial companions ad 
 journ to another room, the new walls have to be 
 warmed up before the ' entre-nous ' sensation again 
 reaches concert pitch? And sometimes this seems 
 not to come at all. " 
 
 " We are certainly very comfortable here, " said 
 Jack. 
 
 But Nell looked hateful. She " had no use for 
 Lieutenant Benners. " Ola's real object in not ad 
 journing to the parlors, was that she wanted Nell to 
 help entertain her guests, and she was afraid the girl, 
 seeking refuge in some flimsy excuse, would refuse to 
 leave the dining room. Whenever Ola saw Lieutenant 
 Benners in her parlors in company with other callers 
 who might chance to be there, she was always remind 
 ed of the little nursery jingle which says : " True 
 politeness is to do and to say, the kindest things in 
 the kindest way. " 
 
 When he entered the room he brought his 
 184
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 " swagger " as Nell called it, with him, but he could 
 not be expected to come without it, since it was part 
 of him. Ola presented him to the " Prince. " The 
 Lieutenant expressed his delight at being admitted to 
 the family circle, and fell into easy conversation with 
 all present. He listened with as much courtesy to 
 the " Prince's " Wall Street talk, as though he had 
 the intention of buying a whole system of railroads, 
 and had the spot cash with which to pay for them. 
 
 The " Prince " at once took to the Lieutenant. 
 Reasonably looked at, this was no marvel, for, in those 
 congenial traits which are the "sine qua non" of true 
 gentlemanliness, the two men were much alike. " To 
 do and to say, the kindest things in the kindest way " 
 formed the foundation of the character of each. About 
 the only essential difference between them was that 
 the " Prince " concentrated and anchored his affec 
 tions, while the Lieutenant, spreading his around, 
 drifted at the mercy of the tide of events. 
 
 The " Prince " gave the Lieutenant his address 
 and urged him to call upon him. Afterwards, when 
 Ola expressed her surprise at this by saying, " I 
 thought you told me you had no time for social calls," 
 he replied, " So I haven't, Baby, but I like him. He's 
 a gentleman. I will excuse myself to any mongrel 
 I may happen to be talking business with any time he 
 calls. " 
 
 'Twas written in the Book of Fate. The 
 " Prince " took Lieutenant Benners to his heart, and 
 from first to last, loved and trusted him like a brother. 
 
 185
 
 CHAPTER XVII. 
 
 How a naval officer justified himself. 
 
 On account of the pique he felt toward Mr. Cam 
 eron, Lieutenant Benners had written to Ola re 
 questing the privilege of justifying himself to her. 
 The way he did justify himself might furnish an ex 
 cellent model for emulation to all lovers who have 
 quarreled and separated. This finesse was probably 
 due to that wit and wisdom which guided the Lieu 
 tenant through all the tangled paths and confusing 
 labyrinths of his many love affairs. It may, however, 
 have been due to circumstances. The first time he 
 called, Cameron was there and of course there was no 
 chance that evening. The next time the " Prince " 
 was there, and at eleven o'clock Ola laughingly told 
 them she intended to turn them both out into the cold 
 world, and herself into her warm bed, that she might 
 arise early and so take advantage of every moment of 
 daylight for her work. 
 
 These two interviews naturally put them at their 
 ease with one another. The Lieutenant settled down 
 into friendly discourse and for a long time never 
 referred, directly or indirectly, to any former near and 
 dear relationship. He brought her boxes of candy, 
 magazines and other trifles, but he ventured upon no 
 familiarities, by word or deed. When he and the 
 " Prince " met, which was not often, neither one 
 seemed the least in the other's way. 
 
 186
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 If anything, the " Prince " was rather glad than 
 otherwise, to meet the Lieutenant at Ola Del's. One 
 evening some remark was made concerning a cele 
 brated violinist who was then giving concerts in New 
 York, and the " Prince " said to Ola, " I suppose I 
 shall have to send a proxy to take you, for it seems 
 impossible to get an evening when I have not some 
 pressing affair to attend to. " 
 
 " May I put in an application for the position, Mr. 
 York?" said the Lieutenant. 
 
 " Your application is received, you are nominated, 
 and your nomination is confirmed," said the " Prince. ' 
 
 The two men laughed and felt satisfied. Ola 
 was indifferent. 
 
 If the Fates ever decreed that Lieutenant Ben- 
 ners was to carry a cross, you may be sure it was not 
 long before he found some modern Simon of Cyrene 
 upon whom, by force or persuasion, he shifted his 
 load. But of late he had been trudging along, or, as 
 Nell would say, " swaggering along," under a slight 
 cross which goaded him about like a tack in one's 
 shoe. When he dropped into the " Prince's " office, 
 he listened to the accounts of York's anxiety to make 
 lots of money, that he might one day marry Ola and 
 make her happy, when she had tired of her chase after 
 fame. 
 
 Whenever Mr. Cameron could catch the Lieu 
 tenant's private ear on board the " Grant, " the 
 former launched off into fulsome praise of Ola, and 
 what a happy man it would make him when he knew 
 she would be watching the days and counting the 
 
 187
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 hours of his ship's return, by this meaning after they 
 were married. Cameron very strongly hinted that he 
 loved her well enough to lay down the honor of 
 serving the navy, and engage in some business which 
 would permit him to be at home. He was daily grow 
 ing more and more in love, and it seemed a comfort 
 to him to talk to the Lieutenant about it. 
 
 " I asked her to play a duet with me one evening," 
 he said. " I noticed I was a little out of time, but not 
 much. Ola, however, turned around on the piano stool 
 and asked if she might look at my hands. 
 
 " I did not know but that she was a student of 
 palmistry, so I said, 'Which one?' 'Both, if you 
 please, ' she answered. She took my hands and after 
 having looked at them for some time she remarked, 
 ' They are pretty fair, for naval hands. ' What do 
 you suppose she (meant by that? " 
 
 " I am sure I don't know, " said Lieutenant Ben- 
 ners. 
 
 " Well, then she bent up each one of my fingers, 
 as if she wanted to see if my joints were in good 
 working order. Then she said, ' They seem to be all 
 right. One would scarcely imagine they could be 
 come such instruments of torture.' Then she laughed 
 how I do love to hear her soft laugh ! and said, 'Let's 
 read Racine. Your French is perfect, but your music 
 well, let's enjoy life. ' But I tell you I would have 
 put every musician Germany ever gave birth to on 
 the rack, for the sake of the soft pressure of her cool 
 fingers on mine, even if she did laugh at me. " 
 
 There was no latter day Simon of Cyrene upon 
 1 88
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 whom Lieutenant Benners could thrust this cross, so 
 he endured the annoyance like a martyr a gentleman 
 ly, clean, well-dressed officer-in-the-navy martyr. 
 
 He said to Ola : " The aspirants for your hand 
 seem to be about as numerous as those for Penelope's." 
 
 " Yes, " she replied, " the grass-widow of Ulysses 
 spun yarn enough to fill all Ithica with moths, while 
 she kept her suitors at bay. I am chasing after Fame 
 and filling my rooms with trash and the odor of 
 pigments, while mine sob and sigh. " 
 
 " Have they got, numerically, beyond keeping 
 track of?" said theN Lieutenant. 
 
 " Oh, no ; not quite as bad as that," said Ola. 
 
 " You treat everybody so nearly alike, I think a 
 man would find it pretty difficult to decide if he were 
 the preferred one or not. Can you tell which one 
 has the best chance?" 
 
 If Ola had not known him to be such a dissembler 
 she would have thought he was a bit jealous, and was 
 fishing for her confession that he was the only one in 
 her heart. 
 
 If this were his motive, he was disappointed, for 
 she answered lightly, " Oh, the situation is quite a 
 comfortable one, all the way around. When a man 
 loves a woman and knows other men love her, he is 
 well content. His own vanity will not permit him to 
 suspect she could prefer another to him, and the very 
 fact that she is sought after by others' only increases 
 his love for her as well as his own self-satisfaction. 
 As to myself, each one of my admirers is valuable to 
 me for that particular thing for which he is useful. " 
 
 189
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 " That seems rather a cold-blooded way to put 
 it," said the Lieutenant. Don't you think so?" 
 
 " Cold-blood is a great contributor to happiness. '' 
 
 " The Lieutenant shook his head and looked at 
 her reprovingly; but, nothing daunted, she went on: 
 " The ' Pirate ' is serviceable to me as a ' middle-man, ' 
 he saves my bartering, which I detest; that's the way 
 he's useful. His desire to marry me is amusing and 
 instructive, inasmuch as it shows that man's conceit 
 is limitless. Mr. York is my preferred, in fact my 
 only creditor. " 
 
 " Fortunate man ! " said the Lieutenant. 
 
 "Why so?" said Ola. 
 
 " Because your gratitude will one day cause you 
 to give yourself to him, " said the Lieutenant. 
 
 " If I understand you, you are entirely mistaken. 
 I am not grateful to Mr. York for his money, I am 
 for the purity of his love. That I owe him several 
 thousand dollars, could not induce me to endure his 
 company for five minutes. Before I took up all my 
 small debts and made one large one, my creditors were 
 about as numerous and troublesome as were once 
 Lord Byron's; but my debts opened no door for 
 the tradespeople to establish a social relation with me. 
 Oh, no! My maid told them to call again next week, 
 and so on and on, ' ad infmitum.' The executioner, 
 if you please, but no hobnobbing with the butcher ! " 
 
 The Lieutenant laughed. He was, nevertheless, 
 pleased. Thus a friendly relationship was once more 
 established between them, and Ola was more com 
 fortable in his presence than she had ever been. Dur- 
 
 190
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 ing this time the Lieutenant gained a more enduring 
 place in her affections than he had ever had. There 
 was so much that is lovable about him. 
 
 A poor, consumptive carpenter was at the house 
 one day, doing some trifling work. His cough at 
 tracted the pitying notice of the Lieutenant, who 
 asked Ola a few questions about the man. Having 
 learned that the mechanic had a large family, was 
 sober and industrious and that his wife helped, as 
 she could, in the support of the family, the Lieutenant 
 told Ola to give the man the two boxes of candy he 
 had brought. She laughingly said, " How generous 
 you are with what does not belong to you. " 
 
 " No, dear, of course expensive candy is no treat 
 to you, but it will be to that poor man's children. " 
 
 She wrapped the candy up and gave it to the car 
 penter; the Lieutenant gave him a couple of dollars 
 and a cigar. 
 
 At another time when they were going out to 
 gether he noticed the colored janitor, in a thin, ragged 
 coat, all doubled up with cold. Lieutenant Benners' 
 beautiful eyes never looked upon suffering that his 
 heart did not feel sympathy, and he now spoke pity 
 ingly of the man to Ola. 
 
 " Yes, " said she, " to me, one of the chiefest in 
 ducements to marry, would be that I might keep that 
 poor old man's bones covered from the winter winds, 
 by giving him my husband's cast-off clothing. " 
 
 " Would you, dear, would you let me send the 
 poor fellow a package in your care ? " 
 
 " Certainly, " she said. 
 191
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 The janitor did not shiver any more that winter, 
 for the Lieutenant sent him an immense bundle, in 
 which was almost everything the poor fellow could 
 wish. How many of Lieutenant Benners' infidelities 
 towards women who loved him, the Recording Angel 
 washed out with the tears of gratitude that poor old 
 negro shed, could not be measured by any possible 
 human knowledge. The tears came to Ola's eyes, 
 too, as she watched the child-like delight shown by 
 the old man ; and of Lieutenant Benners, she thought, 
 " He lacks but one thing to be perfect. If to his 
 many virtues he could add fidelity and truth, he would 
 be the peer of all mankind. " 
 
 Just when these deeds of the Lieutenant had 
 warmed her heart towards him, and his own attitude 
 of mere friendliness to her had thrown her off her 
 guard, he said to her one night, " We leave to-morrow, 
 dear, to be gone for a week or ten days. You will be 
 surrounded by those who love you. Can you, will 
 you, think once in a while of me?" 
 
 He rested his hand on her shoulder and looked 
 into her eyes. If her life had depended upon her lips 
 speaking a word, the Angel of Death would have 
 had to make a record in his books. The Lieutenant 
 knew the barrier of her will was once again sur 
 mounted. 
 
 " Oh, it is so nice to be with you, " he said. 
 
 He put her hand on his cheek, that she 
 might feel how it burned and then softly and slowly 
 drew it along to his lips. " You dear, sweet girl ! 
 How happy must the man be who has your love. " 
 
 192
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 Then he talked on softly to her for half an hour or 
 more always of the happiness of being loved. But 
 no word came from her lips. She did not even know 
 what he said. Like a little butterfly adrift in a sunny 
 zephyr, her happiness was complete. Progress? 
 Fame? Art? All became again meaningless nothings. 
 Self-respect? She had no identity, no being, apart 
 
 from him. 
 
 ****** 
 
 Once more the Lieutenant saw a sunrise. This 
 time the skies were a dull cold grey and a keen winter 
 wind blew into his face but, what was this to him? 
 Nothing. 
 
 193
 
 CHAPTER XVIII. 
 
 The collateral upon which the " Prince " got his 
 sweets on credit. 
 
 The next morning Nell waited so long for Ola 
 to come to breakfast that she finally sent Lucy to 
 see what the trouble was. 
 
 " Tell Miss Thorne not to wait for me, I do not 
 feel well and cannot get up this morning. " 
 
 " Just as I thought, " said Nell to herself when 
 Lucy brought the message. Then she performed such 
 a wholesale slaughter of naval officers, beginning 
 with Lieutenant Benners, as might have crimsoned the 
 whole Atlantic ocean with fresh blood. She did not 
 dare trust herself to see Ola, through fear of being 
 tempted to say something "nasty;" but she sent 
 word by Lucy that if she could do anything to relieve 
 Ola she would gladly do it. 
 
 So she would, poor little thing, even to butcher 
 ing Lieutenant Benners. There was nothing to be 
 done. After luncheon Ola tried to work, but she 
 could not. Nothing that she did suited her. Most 
 of the afternoon she paced restlessly up and down her 
 rooms, working for a few moments now and then, 
 but invariably leaving off with disgust. The evening 
 found her suffering from exhaustion, but with nothing 
 accomplished, and she was melancholy and dis 
 couraged. The " Prince " and Ned St. Claire called, 
 and Nell was in the parlor. 
 
 194
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 " How are you getting along, darling? " said the 
 " Prince, " as he glanced towards her work. 
 
 "Very miserably, indeed. I am afraid we shall 
 both of us have to live a long time and you will have 
 to sell a good many railroads, before I shall have 
 done anything worth more than the price of old 
 rags, " said Ola. 
 
 " That's all right. I'll sell the railroads, and you 
 can and will do something fine. We'll get there, 
 won't we?" said the "Prince," addressing Ned St. 
 Claire. 
 
 " We'll do some dead level trying, any way, " said 
 Ned. 
 
 " I am afraid it is easier to sell a railroad than it 
 is to win Fame, or to deserve it, either, " said Ola, 
 sadly. 
 
 " You deserve it, Baby, and you shall have it, ' 
 said the " Prince, " as he sat down on the couch be 
 side her and took her hand in his. 
 
 " Have a little consideration for my feelings, Mr. 
 York, if you please, " said Ned, laughing, as he shot 
 a glance at the " Prince's " hands in their attempt to 
 caress Ola. 
 
 " That's a fact, so I should, " said the " Prince, " 
 pleasantly, and he patted his darling's cheeks and 
 walked away from the couch upon the back of which 
 Ola leaned her head in a listless, uninterested way. 
 
 Nell thought, " That beast of a Lieutenant ! I 
 wish he would fall overboard and get drowned ! " 
 
 Ned thought, " I suppose her husband has been, 
 195
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 annoying her again. It's a pity the Devil doesn't 
 take him. " 
 
 The " Prince " thought, " I must watch my dar 
 ling, and not let her work so hard. I am willing to 
 gratify her in all her little whims, but I don't intend 
 to let her kill herself." 
 
 And Ola thought, "Nell, dear little Nell! Not 
 even the knowledge of my weakness can drive you 
 away from me. Ned, you more than brother! You 
 would tramp from the Battery to Harlem for me at 
 any hour of the day or night, and never think you 
 merited even thanks. And my " Prince, " who says to 
 me when I speak of being afraid that I shall lose his 
 money, ' Don't mind the money, Baby ; there is plenty 
 of that in Wall Street and it'll be a cold day when I 
 don't get my share ! ' Was ever a woman who was so 
 little worthy of it, so much beloved?" 
 
 " What are you thinking of, Ola? " said St. Claire. 
 
 " I was thinking, Ned, that no woman was ever 
 blessed with such loyal, unselfish, generous friends 
 as I have here represented in Nell and yourself and 
 Mr. York. " 
 
 " Oh, come now, Ola ! If you are going to dis 
 tribute taffy, I want to draw out, " said Nell. 
 
 " Yes, " said Ned, laughing. " When Jay Gould 
 wrecked the Erie, those Englishmen went after him to 
 make him give up fifteen million dollars' worth of 
 the bonds. Gould said, ' Gentlemen, rather than have 
 any trouble with you, here are nine millions for you, 
 I have need of the other little six millions for pocket 
 
 196
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 change. ' I'm just out of such like small change, Ola, 
 so count me out, too, please. " 
 
 " I'll take my sweets on credit, if I may, " said 
 the " Prince. " " I shall be in small change later on. 
 One of those great men from out West, a judge or 
 colonel or general, came to me to-day with a railroad 
 on paper. I listened to him, got his scheme all down 
 fine, sifted the dust all out of it, and found he had a 
 good thing. I asked him if he had any subsidies? 
 ' No. ' I said to him, ' Well, my dear sir, your enter 
 prise is good, the road ought to be built, and when it 
 is built and properly equipped and in good running 
 order, it ought to pay. I can get the capital to build 
 and equip the road ; and if your ideas are not way up 
 out of sight and reason, we can do some business. I 
 will build and equip this road and give you and your 
 associates forty-five per cent, of the stock. ' 
 
 " But that would never do for him. ' Why, ' said 
 I, 'what do you expect to get your money on? 
 You've got nothing. You've done four or five hun 
 dred dollars worth of surveying and struck off a little 
 literature ; that's all. Do you think I am going to 
 build the road and give it to you? Ah, no; you can't 
 get money in Wall Street unless you've got something 
 to get it on. You must come down to hard pan. You 
 people out West think that when you strike New 
 York, all you've got to do is to go along Wall Street 
 with a wheelbarrow and shovel and scoop up the gold. 
 But that's a little mistake, my friend.' He took his 
 railroad and walked out. " 
 
 197
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 Ned laughed. " Is that the enterprise you are 
 going to get your small change from ? " 
 
 "Yes," said the "Prince." 
 
 " But I thought you told us the man walked 
 away, " said Nell. 
 
 " Just so ; he'll go off and hawk it around the 
 Street for two or three weeks, and finally, when he 
 has exhausted himself, he will come back and say: 
 ' Mr. York, I have reflected upon what you said, and 
 I have consulted my associates, and we have decided 
 to accept your offer. ' Then I'll say, ' Do you remem 
 ber what my offer was?' and he'll tell me. Then I'll 
 say, ' Well, that was my offer at that time, and you 
 should have taken it then. It is worth a good deal 
 more now that you've hawked it all over the Street 
 and every promoter in New York has refused it. I 
 can't give you more than half of what I offered you 
 when the scheme was fresh, ' and he'll take it. 
 
 " That's the way we build railroads with those 
 judges and colonels and generals from out West. 
 They are great men where they come from, but they 
 don't knock Wall Street silly when they get here, not 
 by a good deal. Do they, Baby ? " And the " Prince " 
 walked over to Ola, pushed the soft curls off her tem 
 ples and patted her cheek. 
 
 She looked up smilingly at him and said, " I 
 think I shall have to give you credit for a sweet word 
 or two, upon the reasonable supposition that your 
 great man with his paper railroad may return," but 
 all the time she was thinking, " How awful, how 
 shameful a thing it is to know that one should receive 
 
 198
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 a blow, and that instead, every possible kindness is 
 being shown one." 
 
 Near eleven the " Prince " said to Ned St. Claire, 
 " Let's skip and let this tired little one get a good 
 rest; for I suppose she will be up early and at her 
 brush. " 
 
 " I'm with you, " said Ned. 
 
 The two men left, and after a few moments Nell 
 went to her part of the house ; but Ola had company 
 until late in the night the company of her sad re 
 flections. She resolved to ask Lieutenant Benners to 
 stay away from her and permit her to devote herself 
 to her work, and live worthy of her friends. 
 
 When the " Grant " returned to New York, the 
 Lieutenant hastened to call upon Ola. He excused 
 himself for coming in the afternoon, which he knew 
 was against her wishes, by saying he was so anxious 
 to see her, he could not wait until evening. Truth 
 to tell, the Lieutenant was exceedingly fond of those 
 afternoon visits to Ola. It was generally understood 
 among her friends that the artist would not see 
 visitors during the hours of daylight, as she did not 
 wish to be disturbed in her work or studies. Thus 
 the Lieutenant was almost sure to find her alone ; 
 and to be alone with Ola Del was just what filled full 
 the measure of his happiness. 
 
 That afternoon she was putting the finishing 
 touches on a water-color piece a head and bust of 
 Nell and " Bronze " taken together. After looking 
 for some time at this work the Lieutenant said, 
 " That's very good, dear. " 
 
 199
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 " On the contrary, it is extremely bad, " said Ola. 
 
 "What's the matter?" said the Lieutenant. 
 
 " Oh, there are a thousand things the mat 
 ter. There should be a nymph-like expression of mis 
 chief in Nell's eyes, which I have not caught at all. 
 ' Bronze's ' hair is dreadful ; and her mouth looks as 
 if she were saying ' umph-humph.' " 
 
 The Lieutenant laughed like a merry boy at this 
 last remark, and said, " Oh, you dear girl ! I shouldn't 
 want you for a critic. " 
 
 " Perhaps I would be more charitable to you 
 than I am to myself. No, there is but one good 
 thing about this, and that is ' Bronze's ' dress, " said 
 Ola. 
 
 " It's a very pretty thing and, if I had a home, 
 I would like to have it, " said the Lieutenant. 
 
 Perhaps this remark, of all those which an evil 
 genius could have suggested to the Lieutenant, was 
 the one most calculated to give Ola the courage to 
 ask him to leave her. She said: 
 
 " I will give it to you. ' Bronze ' will let you hang 
 it on her walls until you are married; and if your 
 wife will grant you a like privilege, all will be as you 
 wish it. I am sure I should not object to my hus 
 band's hanging up a whole picture gallery of his old 
 sweethearts in our house ; and the more beautiful they 
 were, the better I should be pleased. It would be such 
 a compliment to my own lack of beauty, you see. " 
 
 There was nothing in the world that Lieutenant 
 Benners disliked so much as remarks bordering on 
 unpleasant things. He always said that whenever he 
 
 200
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 felt like saying anything unpleasant, he kept still, and 
 after awhile he got over the desire. So now he tried 
 to ignore Ola's insinuation and to speak of something 
 else. 
 
 But it was of no use ; he had tapped the bitter font 
 within her, and the overflow must come. She walked 
 away from him, and said : " I did not want you to 
 come back into my life, did not intend that you ever 
 should. I have once more demonstrated my own 
 weakness. There is safety, honor, fame, for me in 
 one way. You know Mr. York loves me; the dearest 
 wish of his heart is to make me his wife. You know 
 Mr. Cameron has the same feeling and desire. Be 
 noble; go away; and never come back again. Go to 
 ' Bronze, ' go to the Queen of England, go to a rag 
 picker, if you want to, but leave me alone. " 
 
 Poor Ola ! She suggested one thing too many to 
 the Lieutenant. Had she left Mr. Cameron's name 
 out, it is possible she would have been forgiven the 
 rag-picker slur, and the Lieutenant would have called 
 his better nature to her service would have left 
 her to her work and her ambitions. But Cameron? 
 Oh, no ! That was asking too much. He, Lieutenant 
 Benners, was the master of the little Ola Del 
 craft, and he was not going to resign in Cameron's 
 favor. He therefore passed his arm around his 
 sweetheart's waist, and led her to the couch. There 
 he sat beside her and began to talk to her. 
 
 " It is hard for me to understand you, dear. I 
 never have done so. I think I shall, after ?. while. At 
 least I am going to try. As to Miss Hilton, you know 
 
 201
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 we decided, long ago, not to speak of her again. She is 
 nothing to me. I do not see her, have not seen her 
 since she was here, and have no thought of doing so. 
 So put her out of the question. I could not have given 
 you the money to pursue your studies, because I did 
 not have it. But it could not give any man greater 
 happiness to do so, than it would have given me. If 
 you will honestly tell me you love Mr. York, and wish 
 and intend to marry him, or that you love Mr. Cam 
 eron " 
 
 Here the Lieutenant paused a moment, pressed 
 Ola's cool hand to his hot cheek and lips, looked at 
 her intently hungrily, then leaned his head down 
 upon her shoulder and continued, " Of course, if you 
 love Mr. Cameron, I must let him have you; for, 
 you dear girl, I wish you to be happy. But it is 
 hard; very hard. Now, tell me, do you love him? 
 Do you love any one but me ? " 
 
 The answer he received was not one of words, 
 but it was the only one Ola had ever been able to give 
 him, and he was happy. 
 
 Thus as the days and months rolled by, the 
 woman ever struggled with the fierce elements that 
 swept through her soul. She longed to be good and 
 pure, that she might be worthy of the " Prince ; " and 
 she was crushed with the humiliating knowledge that 
 she could not. She must work on, she said, and try 
 to pay the debt of money she owed Mr. York; she 
 knew his pure love could not be paid for. And she 
 must live along until she died. 
 
 She worked, oh, so industriously, and she im- 
 202
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 proved. All those around her loved her. Mr. Cam 
 eron was waiting to get his courage up to ask her to 
 accept the great honor of being the wife of an officer 
 in the navy. He knew he would have to wait; there 
 was no help for it. Only after she should have put 
 her works upon exhibition, tested their merit by the 
 verdict of the art critics and by the price they would 
 bring at auction, would she have any time to think of 
 love. So Mr. Cameron waited; what else could he do? 
 So the " Prince" waited; what else could he do? So 
 Lieutenant Benners reveled in possession; what else 
 could he do? 
 
 At his visits, Ola's cheeks were flushed; there 
 was an almost insane fire in her eyes. After he was 
 gone, she was a wreck ; gloomy, misanthropic. She 
 would not have despised herself half as much, had 
 she possessed the courage to say to all her friends: 
 " Think what you will of me, it cannot be bad enough. 
 I have deceived and wronged you all. I am his." 
 
 Goaded by her own sense of justice she would 
 have done this, had not that same sense of justice for 
 bidden it. If by some necromancy she could have so 
 numbed all sensation in the hearts of those who loved 
 her, as to be sure they wou 1 d not, could not suffer, 
 then she would have proclaimed the truth. It was not 
 through fear of shame and disgrace to herself, but be 
 cause she must save them pain, that she continued to 
 keep her guilty secret. Ever fearful lest she should 
 wound those unsuspecting ones who loved her, there 
 was no man of her acquaintance with whom she was 
 
 203
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 so ceremonious and formal, in the presence of others, 
 as with Lieutenant Benners. 
 
 And she lived on, and worked on, and sent Will 
 Fallon his hush money, and sold her " daubs " as she 
 called them, through the " Pirate. " And every time 
 she sent money to Will Fallon, she said to herself, 
 " I am a living lie. " At every token of the " Prince's " 
 worship (for his love was nothing short of idol 
 atry) she shuddered, and said, " I am a living lie. " 
 When Mr. Cameron told her how proud he was to 
 reckon her among his friends, among his most honored 
 and beloved, she quivered, as at the keen touch of a 
 fire-brand, and said, " I am a living lie. " 
 
 If there were but a law which would compel her, 
 like the lepers of old, to cover her face at the approach 
 of one morally clean, and shout aloud, " Unclean ! 
 unclean ! " how gladly she would have done it. But, 
 alas ! they who loved her would suffer by any revela 
 tion more than she, so she was silent. 
 
 204
 
 CHAPTER XIX. 
 
 " She was forced to set her own feelings down as a 
 mystery, inexplicable even to herself." 
 
 The woman's soul was dominated by two mighty, 
 conflicting forces. The darkest care that ever hung 
 over her, vanished at Lieutenant Benners' magic 
 touch. She knew he did not love her; she knew that 
 when he was away from her he was not true to her; 
 she knew that in the make-up of his life she was but 
 one little haven, in one little port, of which there were 
 many more; and that she was not, in the least, of 
 greater importance than any of the others. He told 
 her he thought of her when he was away. Yes, so he 
 did. As his ship was entering the harbor of New 
 York, he truly thought with tenderness of her artistic 
 little home, in which everything spoke of its mis 
 tress ; and his beautiful eyes were ablaze with the de 
 lights awaiting him; his lips grew warm and red in 
 spite of the wind. 
 
 But it was the physical woman he thought of. 
 He thought that she would be prettily dressed, 
 that she would look at him almost shyly when she 
 aw him and yet say with pretended nonchalance, " I 
 am glad to see you. How kind of you to remember 
 the candy ; I was so hungry for it. Let's sit down and 
 eat it. When did you get into port?" He thought 
 how she would nervously cut the string and open 
 
 205
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 the box, and tumble the bonbons around with 
 the little tongs, and break the pieces in two, giving 
 him half, and pretend all the time that he would not 
 contribute much to her happiness, if it were not for 
 his generosity in the matter of candy. And this would 
 please him mightily, for he would know she was not 
 speaking the truth ; that there could not be a cir 
 cumstance or condition in which she would not be 
 glad to see him. 
 
 Then he would take the box out of her hand, and, 
 drawing her up close to him he would say, " Yoa 
 dear girl, I can't keep my hands off you, so it's no 
 use -to try. " 
 
 And she would look at him from out the depths 
 of her grey-black eyes, and finally she would put her 
 hand on his, and with the tenderest, most loving pres 
 sure, she would say, " Have you been true to me 
 since we were separated?" 
 
 Then he would look down upon the carpet, and 
 call into his features a holy, single-souled expression, 
 and modulate his voice he had a most marvelous 
 command of his expression and voice and freight his 
 tones so full of love and conviction, that he would 
 have electrified an ice statute of Minerva, and, slow 
 ly and softly say, " Yes, dear, I have, and that is as 
 true as the truth ever was. " 
 
 And he would gently lay his hand down upon her 
 arm around his neck ; and there he would remain quiet, 
 until, by some intuition which was a gift peculiar to 
 him, he knew he had banished reason from her, that 
 she wanted but one thing to be happy with him 
 
 206
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 and that she would eagerly grasp and hold that hap 
 piness, cost what it might. Upon every return from 
 his cruises, she invariably asked him if he had been 
 true to her, and he just as monotonously told her the 
 same falsehood. 
 
 These were the thoughts he had of her when 
 they had been separated, and his ship was bringing him 
 nearer and nearer to her. In his fancy he could see 
 the light streaming from the upper half of those win 
 dows, as he passed the corner, and it filled him with 
 joy to know it was his own little beacon, burning 
 for him and for him alone. He knew when it stormed 
 she leaned her face against that cold window-pane, 
 and looked with an aching heart upon the angry ele 
 ments, and, foolish as only a woman can be, she kept 
 the light burning all night. He had found out about 
 this all-night burning one stormy night when he 
 was making his way back to his ship, in company 
 with some of his brother-officers, from a visit to a 
 place not mentioned in respectable society. It was 
 three o'clock in the morning, blowing and storming 
 like all the furies; he saw the beacon light and a 
 slight feeling of jealousy taking possession of him, he 
 slipped away from his companions, went back and 
 rang the bell. 
 
 Then she had opened the window, and, looking 
 out, said, " Who is there? " 
 
 " It is I, dear. Open ; it is a dreadful night. " 
 
 The wind had dashed the rain into her face and 
 drenched her nightdress; but, without other thought 
 than to give her lover shelter from the wild storm, 
 
 207
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 she flew to open the door. Her long black hair fell 
 around her and she was wet and cold, but she drew 
 him to the heat and began to relieve him of his wet 
 overcoat. He shook himself a little, sauntered around 
 the room, and then he said, " Are you alone? " 
 
 "Alone? Yes. For Heaven's sake, whom would 
 you expect to be here at this hour of the night? " 
 
 With a feeling of shame, he answered, " I saw a 
 bright light, and I feared you were sick. To ease 
 my mind about you, I slipped away from the others. 
 But I see I was mistaken. You were asleep, were 
 you not? Why, then, was the gas burning so 
 brightly?" 
 
 She was afraid he would laugh at her, but she 
 told him she always kept it burning, when she thought 
 him at sea, if the weather were wild. He did not 
 laugh, he was pleased. In an instant he caught her 
 idea her desire to help him. His beautiful eyes lit 
 up and he drew her shivering body close to him and 
 tenderly murmured, " You dear girl ! " 
 
 Then, for the first time, he noticed her hair and 
 her garments were dripping wet. Reproaching him 
 self for his selfishness, with his own hands he put 
 some dry clothing on her and gently wiped her wet 
 hair with a towel. 
 
 " How cold your feet are, dear ! Lie down and 
 let me rub them until they get warm. " 
 
 And he caressed her and fondled her and talked 
 to her, in a way upon which he could not have im 
 proved, had he really loved her. And she again was 
 happy with that unreasoning happiness which she 
 
 208
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 always felt when with Adrian Benners. In this union 
 she knew the happiness that is content with the earth ; 
 that wishes to dwell here forever and never grow old ; 
 that desires to awaken passion, and most of all, to re 
 spond to that which it has called into life. With Lieu 
 tenant Benners as her companion, wealth, luxury, a 
 soft, voluptuous life these seemed to her the perfec 
 tion of perfections which existence could hold. 
 
 But with the " Prince " no snow queen could 
 have been more passionless. Every noble aspira 
 tion the woman had ever felt was then called forth. 
 She never thought of Adrian Benners in connection 
 with business or her ambitions; she never thought of 
 the " Prince " in any other way. The most insigni 
 ficant gift from the Lieutenant made her feel like a. 
 prostitute. About the thousands of dollars bestowed 
 by the " Prince, " she felt perfectly comfortable ; this 
 was business, and she had so insisted from the first. To 
 the one man she was the embodiment of purity, pre 
 cision, business-rectitude, punctiliousness; to the 
 other, a creature of convenience. Rather a nice and 
 dainty little necessity, it was admitted by the Lieu 
 tenant; but, nevertheless, only one of the elements 
 that went to make up his life. 
 
 The " Prince " was proud that the world should 
 know he was her patron, yet he took every possible 
 precaution not to compromise her. Lieutenant Ben 
 ners would have been glad to have every officer in 
 the United States Navy suspect that Ola Del loved 
 him. That she was so secretive and circumspect, 
 galled him a little yet only a little, for nothing ever 
 
 209
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 stirred him deeply. She knew the " Prince's " ideal of 
 her was the highest possible embodiment of human 
 perfections; and she longed to attain that standard. 
 The best, the purest, the holiest sentiments that any 
 soul may feel, the " Prince " awakened within her. 
 She loved him, and in that love there was not the 
 smallest element of infidelity to Adrian Benners. She 
 kissed the " Prince " with as pure a feeling as a 
 virgin would have for a brother or father. To humor 
 her, he spoke of the money he had advanced in her 
 interest as a loan ; but in his soul, the man felt that 
 comfort which comes to every truly noble person 
 who knows that his money and labor are blessing 
 those he loves. 
 
 Ned St. Claire had once said to her, when they 
 were talking over her worries and perplexities, " A 
 woman may tell her brother, as you call me, a great 
 many things. She may read him her letters from 
 ' Prince ' and ' Pirate, ' she may confess, without re 
 serve, what most of the men who are besieging her 
 in one way or another, say to her. But if she really 
 loves, there is one man's letters she does not let her 
 brother read; there is one love she holds too sacred 
 to mention; there is one sweet secret she most care 
 fully guards from prying eyes. I know you are pretty 
 confidential with me in reference to the ' Prince ' and 
 the ' Pirate, ' and your husband's incessant demands 
 on you for money; and I am convinced that you are 
 not a votary of passion; but, my girl, you are just 
 as human as all the rest of flesh, if the right man 
 comes along. And when that man cames, you won't 
 
 210
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 make a father confessor of your brother Ned, nor will 
 that fortunate man think you frigid and passionless. " 
 
 She laughed a little and then said, " Do you 
 think I shall ever meet that fortunate man?" 
 
 " You never have met him, " said Ned. 
 
 What a world of relief his words conveyed to 
 her, for at that very time Lieutenant Benners was 
 her lover, and the two men had met a number of 
 times in her little parlor. She was comforted by this 
 confident assurance more than she would have liked 
 to admit, even to herself. That same evening when 
 Lieutenant Benners said to her, " You dear girl, come 
 here and kiss your old man, " she felt so happy at the 
 thought that she belonged to him and that no one on 
 earth knew it. 
 
 There lived within her and acted upon her, two 
 souls. By this word " souls, " do not understand two 
 immortal somethings which might live through an 
 eternity of bliss for a few meritorious acts done in the 
 brief span of this life, or through an eternity of 
 blisters, for failing to be able to believe certain theo 
 logical dogmas. That is not its meaning here. There 
 were two forces, of almost equal power, but of exactly 
 diametrical natures, which dominated her and con 
 trolled her acts by turns. She was equally at the mercy 
 of the one or the other. Had she never known and 
 felt the power of both of them, had she met only 
 Adrian Benners, or only the " Prince, " she would 
 have believed, in loving the one she did love, that 
 
 211
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 every faculty for loving within her had been called 
 forth. 
 
 But as she had met them both, loved them both, 
 and that, too, at the same time, she was forced to set 
 her own feelings down as a mystery, inexplicable even 
 to herself. All the " Prince's " holy love for her, his 
 divine confidence in her, were precious beyond the 
 power of language. When under the domination of 
 that force which the "Prince" called forth, she yearned 
 to be what he thought her. It seemed to her 
 that these two souls of hers inhabited two bodies, and 
 that she walked through life, at times in a celestial 
 body, at other times in the terrestrial body ; that with 
 the " Prince " she was a celestial body, almost a pure 
 spirit; with Lieutenant Benners, she was a terrestrial 
 body, a thing of matter and senses. 
 
 In each condition her happiness was almost per 
 fect. Had she been confident of Lieutenant Ben 
 ners' love, she would have felt none of the aspirations 
 of ambition. Her wish then, for both him and her 
 self, would have been to live as butterflies, " and die 
 when all things are bright and fair. " But the dis 
 tracting factor from perfect happiness, with the Lieu 
 tenant, was her lack of confidence in him. And with 
 the " Prince, " she felt so immeasurably beneath what 
 he believed her to be. 
 
 In her celestial body she placed one cool, passion 
 less hand in that of the " Prince, " and walked up the 
 Mount of Purity, freeing herself at every step from 
 
 212
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 the trammels of passion. With a bare arm around 
 Adrian Benners' neck, she lulled her soul into softest 
 quiet; enjoyed the perfect delight of being, of living, 
 of loving, ungoaded by the thought of her own 
 frailties and failures. 
 
 213
 
 CHAPTER XX. 
 The pump at both ends. 
 
 Sunday afternoon always brought the " Princt '' 
 and Jack to dinner, and in the evening Ned St. Claire 
 was generally one of their number. At every breath 
 ing-spell during the week the " Prince " thought, " FH 
 see her on Sunday. " 
 
 At the close of one of those dinners he said : 
 " There is no place I enjoy food as I do here." 
 
 " Perhaps love is a better appetizer than hunger, ' 
 said Nell. 
 
 " I think so ; and, besides, there is never any per 
 fumery in the pudding sauce here, " said the 
 " Prince. " 
 
 This remark struck Nell's risibles, and she 
 went off into a " spe-asm " of laughter. As soon as 
 she could get her face straight, she said, " Upon my 
 word, it is a pity to spoil two houses with you and 
 Ola. " 
 
 " My opinion, exactly, " said the " Prince, " and 
 he patted Ola's cheek. 
 
 " A bunch of white roses will make Ola faint 
 dead away, and you can't abide spices or flavorings, " 
 said Nell. 
 
 " Same kind of stuff in both of us, isn't there, 
 ' Baby?' " said the " Prince. " 
 
 "How's my friend, Old Jake?" said Nell. 
 214
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 " Oh, Old Jake's all right," said the " Prince. " 
 
 " Old Jake Israel is my particular pet of all your 
 finance men. Jack, we'll have to invite Old Jake to 
 our wedding, to reward him for the many good laughs 
 I have had over a description of his trades with Mr. 
 York, " said Nell. 
 
 " Old Jake is all right on a trade, but he might 
 be a pretty tough dose at a wedding feast, " said Mr. 
 York. " When he comes to see me, all the boys know 
 there is a trade on hand. The old man stands out 
 side the door and says, ' Vere's dot man York?' 
 Then some of them call me. Then Old Jake sits down 
 by a table, as close up to me as I will let him get, and 
 commences a description of his enterprise by laying it 
 down on the table with his fore-finger. When he 
 gets a little warmer, he points that fore-finger at me; 
 when he is at his height, he places that fore-finger on 
 the side of his nose, tries to pet me with the other 
 hand, and calls me ' Harold. ' Then I begin to look 
 out for the old man and say, ' Hold on, Jake ! Hold on ! 
 You are getting too familiar; now I know you are 
 going to cheat me.' " 
 
 " Doesn't that offened him? " said Ola. 
 
 "Offend him? No, he takes it as a compliment 
 that I think he can cheat me, " said the " Prince, " 
 laughing at Ola's simplicity. 
 
 " He brought me an industrial enterprise not 
 long ago. We have succeeded in getting several big 
 manufactories in this vicinity to consolidate, and 
 form themselves into a stock company. " 
 
 " Glad to see you, Ned. You are just in time for 
 215
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 coffee and cigars, " said Ola, as Lucy brought St. 
 Claire into the room. 
 
 " No coffee, please. I'll join in the smoke, 
 though, " said Ned. 
 
 As the smoke from the cigars of the gentlemen 
 began to fill the room, the " Prince " went on talking 
 about his commercial enterprise deal. 
 
 " The actual value of the different plants is four 
 million four hundred thousand dollars. But we have 
 capitalized the company for five millions. " 
 
 " Why do you add six hundred thousand dollars 
 more than the actual value, " said Ola. 
 
 " We promoters propose to make something, 
 ' Baby, ' " said the " Prince, " as he blew the smoke, 
 out of his cigar, and then, with a second blow, pre 
 vented it from going into Ola's face. " We pull the 
 wool over the eyes of the public by representing the 
 good will of the different concerns as worth six hun 
 dred thousand dollars. In other words, we water our 
 enterprise that much. " 
 
 " Oh, yes, a pump is just as essential to the Wall 
 Street man as it is to the milk man, " said Ned ; which 
 remark made them all laugh, and sent Nell off into 
 another " spe-asm, " and Ola, looking with friendly 
 approval at this brother of hers put in, " You have 
 your say occasionally, don't you, Ned?" 
 
 " I have prepared this enterprise for the London 
 market," continued the " Prince," "and when the pro 
 moters ' across the pond ' get hold of it, they will 
 find another convenient pump, I'll wager. " 
 
 " The milk of human kindness, dealt out on Wall 
 216
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 Street, seems to be thinner than that from our country 
 dairies ; for you have a pump at both ends, " said Ola. 
 Then they all laughed ; for they thought they had the 
 joke on the " Prince. " He also joined, and quietly 
 retorted, " In some cases, darling, yes; but in this case, 
 no. For the enterprise will stand the amount of 
 water we intend to use, as we can show it produces 
 seventeen-and-a-half per cent, net earnings, and is 
 capable of doing better. We issue bonds and pre 
 ferred and common stock. The common stock is 
 worth more than the preferred, or the bonds, as it is 
 liable to pay a better income. " 
 
 " A great place, that Wall Street, " said Jack, 
 " but you are liable to panic. " 
 
 "A panic?" exclaimed the "Prince," "I'd give 
 a hundred thousand dollars for a panic. And a war? 
 I'd give a million for a war. That would be just the 
 picnic for me. People are of the impression that the 
 immense fortunes made in Wall Street are made in 
 speculating in stocks on margin. That's where they 
 are mistaken. Show me the man who has made any 
 money in that way, and kept it very long. There are 
 a million and one other ways of making money. Here's 
 a man with eighteen hundred acres of coal, iron and 
 timber land, in Centre County, Pennsylvania, free 
 and clear, valued at from fifty to two hundred dollars 
 an acre; also three hundred and twenty acres of lead 
 and timber land in Missouri, free and clear, title per 
 fect, valued at three hundred dollars per acre. Owner 
 will trade the land, and ten per cent, cash, for good 
 bonds. I happened to have some bonds placed in my 
 
 217
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 hands to sell or trade, which just filled the bill. " 
 
 " Where is this land that is worth fifty to two 
 hundred dollars per acre?" said St. Claire. 
 
 " In Centre County, Pennsylvania, " said the 
 "Prince?" 
 
 Ned laughed. " The Buckwheater has got the 
 best of the bond man; for there isn't an acre of land 
 in all that section worth more than from five to ten 
 dollars an acre. I've been all through there. " 
 
 " Chalk up one for the Buckwheater, " said Nell. 
 
 The " Prince " laughed, as though he thought 
 Wall Street were not so very easy to get the best of 
 after all, " I guess the bonds are about as much 
 inflated as the land. " he said. " Where the smile 
 comes in, is the ten per cent. cash. Of course I was 
 in on that. The land and the bonds might have been 
 no good, but there was nothing the matter with the 
 cash. There's all kinds of brave soldiers start out to 
 beat Wall Street, but they generally go limping home, 
 maimed and halt and blind. " 
 
 " What excuse have you Wall Street chaps for 
 living, any way? Of course you love and are good ^o 
 Ola, but those dried-up old bachelors, who spend their 
 days in shearing the sheep" 
 
 Here Jack broke into a most hearty but impolite 
 laugh. 
 
 " Hush, Jack. That's what they do ; I heard Mr. 
 York tell Ola so the very last time he was here, " said 
 Nell, with good-humored indignation. But Jack 
 couldn't stop to save his life. He laughed until the 
 tears rolled down his cheeks. Indeed, his enjoyment 
 
 218
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 of Nell's paraphrase of a well-known Wall Street 
 term, was so sincere that it affected all those in the 
 dining-room. 
 
 When they were finally quieted, the " Prince " 
 came to Nell's relief by telling her that if she wanted 
 to talk Wall Street wise, she must say, " fleecing the 
 lambs." 
 
 " It seems to me that is a distinction without a 
 great deal of difference, " said Nell, a trifle disposed 
 to contest the point. 
 
 " It is a mile post along the road of time, that 
 makes the difference, Nell, " said Ned, " about the 
 same as that which exempts the big boy from mas 
 sage treatment applied over mamma's knee with a 
 slipper. When the lambs get to be sheep, they skip 
 away and refuse to be 'sheared.' " 
 
 " Then it is only the young and innocent that 
 can be victimized?" said Nell. 
 
 " Indeed, no, " said the " Prince, " " as long as a 
 man holds to the delusion that he can beat the game, 
 just so long will he drop his earnings in Wall 
 Street. When he comes to his senses, and acknow 
 ledges that the principle upon which all gambling 
 games are founded, and gives the per cent, to the bank, 
 he will walk away lighter in pocket, but with a few 
 rooms up-stairs occupied. This is one way in which 
 money is made : A contractor wanted to raise one 
 million five hundred thousand dollars ; I got a well- 
 rated firm to loan him their four months paper, on two 
 per cent., with a bank guarantee. I also got four well- 
 rated endorsers. He paid each of these endorsers two 
 
 219
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 per cent, for the use of their names. In other words, I 
 worked up one milion five hundred thousand dollars 
 worth of first-class, well-rated, bang-up, negotiable 
 paper. Commission for York, twenty thousand dol 
 lars. The whole transaction was based on the value 
 of the contract. " 
 
 " I would have liked the job of furnishing him 
 some first-class, well-rated, bang-up, negotiable paper, 
 for one half your commission, " said Nell. 
 
 " It's a case of " vouloir sans pouvoir, " isn't it, 
 Nell?" said Ola. 
 
 " I haven't the slightest idea what your French 
 means, Ola, but I'll go you a blind and say yes, " 
 said Nell. 
 
 " Your endeavor to air your knowledge, Ola, was 
 more fortunate in its results than were those of poor, 
 shipwrecked Paddy, on the coast of France, who 
 wanted to borrow a gridiron, " said St. Claire. 
 
 " Don't say a word, Ned. Nell let me down easy 
 that time, but she's bound to make me square up, in 
 terest, principal and all. She's too good a business 
 woman to let me off like that, " said Ola. 
 
 " Oh, don't say a word about business, I'm green 
 with jealousy. I want to be a Wall Street man, " said 
 Nell. Then, an instant later, she added, " You rent 
 an office, Jack, and do the propriety, while I furnish 
 the Napoleon-of-Finance brains. " 
 
 " All right, " said Jack. . " Just as soon as I 
 have money enough to pay the first month's rent, I 
 will. " 
 
 " When you're ready, draw on me for the first 
 220
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 six months' rent, " said the " Prince ; " and then he 
 launched further into the mysteries of Wall Street 
 operations, as follows : " A president of a railroad 
 wanted me to procure him a loan of fifty thousand 
 dollars, on the bonds of the N. M. & A. Railroad Com 
 pany. The company has three, six per cent, bonded 
 debts against it, issued on the different sections of 
 the road. The bonds he wanted to procure the loan 
 on are part of the ten million five per cent, blanket 
 mortgage, of which one million five hundred thousand 
 for improvements, are listed on the stock exchange; 
 and the balance is held in trust, to retire the three 
 outstanding issues as they become due. " 
 
 " Excuse my stupidity, but what is a blanket 
 mortgage?" said Ola. 
 
 " A blanket mortgage, generally speaking, dar 
 ling, is a mortgage that covers the whole property ; 
 and the blanket mortgage in question was issued for 
 the purpose of concentrating and reducing the bonded 
 indebtedness from six per cent, to five per cent. ; to 
 be used to retire the outstanding bonds as they 
 mature. As the outstanding bonds are retired, then 
 this blanket mortgage becomes the only mortgage on 
 the property. " 
 
 " I see, " said Ola. " What a great thing business 
 is." 
 
 Then they all laughed; for they knew she didn't 
 see at all. 
 
 221
 
 CHAPTER XXI. 
 
 " The saddest of it all is this, that no one on earth 
 does know, or ever can know me." 
 
 As the years passed, Ola worked with the en 
 thusiasm of a devotee, under the instruction of her 
 master. The old man took the greatest interest in her, 
 and became really fond of her. She had had five or 
 six years under a skillful master, before her marriage. 
 Now her whole soul was in her work. She must suc 
 ceed. Her worst enemy could not have accused her of 
 indolence; but it was much easier for her to satisfy 
 her master, than it was to satisfy herself. 
 
 She once said to him, " Oh ! if I only could re 
 produce what is within me! I know the effect I 
 would make; I fancy I know the colors and the 
 strokes necessary to this end, and when I use them, 
 they are not in the least what I thought they would 
 be. I miss what I think so many others miss, 
 that is, catching the expression, even of inanimate 
 things. Flowers have individual expression to me; 
 roses are all amorous : the red ones love like Italians ; 
 the white ones, like Russians ; the pink ones, like the 
 English; the cream-colored, like the Germans. It 
 hurts my feelings more to see a woman bedecked 
 with flowers which ill-accord with her temper and 
 temperament, than to see her with an unbecoming 
 gown. I always think the flowers must be ill at ease. 
 
 222
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 Who can look at maiden-hair fern without thinking 
 of a New England dame, clean, cold, passionless; or 
 at any of the pinks, without seeing a country belle, 
 sweet and pretty, with good, lasting qualities. And 
 the St. Joseph's lilies are made to grow in a land in 
 habited by celestial bodies. The lilies-of-the-valley 
 are like your unpretending female, who will show 
 you an unsuspected trait that you little dreamed 
 slept in her character, and against which you could 
 not be on your guard. 
 
 " These are the things I see in the natural 
 flowers ; but my daubs are just so much pigment 
 mixed with oil or water, and smeared on. They have 
 no lauguage of any kind. They can not even speak 
 to me, who created them. I never can finish anything. 
 Somehow or other it will not finish. I can always 
 see something I should add or change. And, finally, 
 when I put it from me in disgust, I should actually 
 enjoy cutting it into shreds and burning it to ashes. 
 Oh, art ! art ! like happiness, thou art hard to cap 
 ture." 
 
 But her master did not hold her work in such 
 contempt. He saw that ideality, imagination, so 
 largely developed in her, was what made her so dissat 
 isfied with her pictures. And the old man knew that 
 the public was not over-burdened with these fine 
 notions. She drew correctly and colored well. These 
 she would get credit for. His first care had been to 
 curb her fancy, tie her down to the drudgery of cor 
 rect drawing. She watched him, and listened to him. 
 When he was illustrating something with his brush 
 
 223
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 and had about half finished, she would say, " Please 
 let me finish it, that I may know if I have caught 
 your ideas. " 
 
 He said to her over and over again, " Work from 
 light to dark; from cold to warm; and avoid mud; 
 avoid mud. " 
 
 She was patient, attentive, industrious; and the 
 old man at length chuckled to himself, " She does 
 better work that I do. She is as correct as I am 
 in drawing, and her limitless imagination puts 
 ideality and soul and beauty into everything she 
 touches. In short, she paints herself, paints her inner- 
 woman, upon everything. " 
 
 When he stood looking at her work in black and 
 white, he felt a pang of regret at the thought of chang 
 ing it. He would say, " It seems a pity to touch it. 
 It is so striking, so characteristic, but, " almost with 
 a sigh, " of course it lacks color. " 
 
 She would never have signed a picture, nor saved 
 one for an exhibition, had not her master scolded 
 and coerced her into it. Her imagination ran riot 
 and carried her with it. When she was alone, the 
 tickings of the clock became sentences, messages of 
 love, or condemnation. She could never dictate what 
 these clock words should be. They were just what 
 they were, arid were clear and distinct to her, though 
 no other soul could read the message. She stood at 
 the window and looked up at the stars. The 
 " Prince's " star looked calmly down on her, and said, 
 " Little angel, pure and sweet, I see you, good night; 
 
 224
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 go to bed, " or again it said, " I know you, I am 
 heart-broken, I have died, good-bye." 
 
 The trees and shrubs in the Park were all well 
 acquainted with her, and told her lots of things. A 
 little squirrel that halted and turned to look at her, 
 was not actuated by idle curiosity; it had a message 
 to give her. Thus she worked on, ever discontented 
 with her work, and dreamed, and dreamed; scarcely 
 anything in the objective world was real to her; but 
 her own kingdom was peopled with a mighty host. 
 
 And all this time the mysterious power that Lieu 
 tenant Benners had over her, gained in strength. At 
 times a soft, musical voice would speak to her soul, 
 " You dear girl, I am so glad to see you. " 
 
 These words were spoken to her without, seeming 
 ly, any connecting link or provocation. Then the phys 
 ical woman became inert, and her soul almost left her 
 body. Her big grey eyes were apparently fastened 
 on one point, but she saw nothing. She was with 
 him. The slightest token his hand had once touched, 
 a letter from him, a box in which he had brought 
 her candy, was sufficient to cast her into this con 
 dition. She had long ceased to resist him, as she 
 deemed any effort in that line worse than wasted 
 strength. 
 
 Would her pictures, which were to be put on ex 
 hibition, sell for enough to pay her debt to the 
 "Prince?" she questioned. What would she not 
 have done, to gain this end. Anything, she said, any 
 thing. She could never marry the " Prince," or the 
 " Banker, " or Mr. Cameron, or any other respectable 
 
 225
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 man. She knew this. But, oh, to pay that debt and 
 fly from the tortures of the " Prince's " look of loving 
 confidence! In Italy she could paint, and live, or die; 
 it made little difference which. She had worked five 
 years under her master, and during all this time the 
 " Prince " had never fagged, never swerved one hair's 
 breadth, in his noble devotion to her. How she 
 worshiped him. How she gloried in his goodness. 
 How she wished that by some accident he would kill 
 her. Mr. Cameron too, and the " Banker " they were 
 good men, and they loved her. " Why, in goodness' 
 name, could they not have loved somebody else ? " 
 
 The time for the exhibition was near at hand. 
 Her pictures were finished, and so was her strength. 
 " The " Pirate, " lured by the money he made selling 
 her pictures, had hung around during all these years. 
 He was full of seemingly unostentations brag. He 
 could do wonders at that sale, and he would. And 
 then she could really paint well. She would be self- 
 sustaining at least, if not profitable. What a glory 
 it would be to have such a wife ! and, what a com 
 fort! she would not cost anything. He rubbed his 
 big white hands, devoured her with his lecherous 
 eyes, and hitched around and hedged around the ques 
 tion of marriage, and finally blurted out his desires. It 
 happened that he spoke of his passion, just at a time 
 when Ola was suffering the keenest pangs of self-ac 
 cusation. His desire to marry her had never moved 
 her in any way except to a further indifferent recogni 
 tion of the conceit of man; but now? Could she use 
 this creature as a means of gaining freedom? 
 
 226
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 " You have often told me you have immense in 
 fluence with patrons of art," she said. " I am in debt, 
 very much in debt ; and I wish with all my soul to pay 
 this money I owe. There is the sum of my obliga 
 tion, " and she handed him a slip of paper upon which 
 was jotted down the moneys she had received from 
 the " Prince. " " If, through your influence, my pic 
 tures sell for enough to cover that amount, I will, if 
 you still wish it, marry you. " 
 
 He made a movement as if to put his arms around 
 her; but she held him at bay with her hand and eyes. 
 " Stop ! I shall not deliver myself to you on the in 
 stallment plan. When you have earned your reward, 
 you shall have it. " 
 
 " Why make any attempt to deal honorably with 
 one who cannot understand even the cardinal prin 
 ciples of honesty? That I have a husband," thought 
 Ola, bitterly, " can cut no figure here. If he can help 
 me pay my debts, he shall; and then, Harold, I must 
 break your noble heart. But it is better that I should 
 fly from you, that you should never know where I 
 am, than that I should live here, and eventually in 
 herit your loathing. I know I deserve it, but I could 
 not bear it. " 
 
 Thus the divine spark within the woman calling 
 aloud, continually upbraided her constantly urged 
 her onward and upward and she knew no rest. 
 
 At this trying time, not the least among those 
 who gave words of good cheer, encouragement, 
 and praise, was Lieutenant Benners. He was really 
 interested in her work; and there was to hittl 9, sense 
 
 227
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 of satisfaction in the knowledge that she belonged to 
 him. He saw her nervous and exhausted. That heart 
 of his, which always went out in sympathy to every 
 thing on earth that suffered, was by no means numb 
 and dead to' this strange woman who loved him in. 
 such a peculiar way. He called her " a dear girl, ' 
 and in his low, soft voice, he told her 'what a com 
 fort her love was to him. ' After the exhibition 
 she must take a good long rest, because she was 
 killing herself. She must never do anything that 
 would injure her health. She must try to live a long, 
 long, time. A long life, enjoyed temperately to the 
 end, was the Lieutenant's one grand song. 
 
 She did not work now, she could not; she waited 
 with nervous anxiety the result of her five years of 
 labor. All her friends were kind and thoughtful, 
 but this very tenderness only added to her misery. 
 Often and often she thought bitterly : ' For the worst 
 is this after all; if they knew me, not a soul on earth 
 would pity me.' 
 
 Then she would exclaim, " How untrue that is ! I 
 am sure if they knew me, every soul on earth would 
 pity me. The saddest of it all is that no one on earth 
 does know, or even can know me. If I were to tell 
 it with my last breath, who would believe me? " 
 
 Ola was only partly right in her conclusions. 
 True, no one on earth appreciated to the full the in 
 fluence Lieutenant Benners had over her, but Nell had 
 a faint idea of it as complete an understanding of it, 
 perhaps, as any one, except Ola, ever could have. This 
 knowledge, added to Nell's love for Ola, kept the 
 
 228
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 little thing charitable, loyal, silent. Nell had bound 
 less faith in the reconstructive powers of Time. She 
 just watched, that she might aid, if possible, and 
 waited, with faith in her friend. She had that divine 
 love which " thinketh no evil, endureth long, and is 
 kind." The good God bless thee, Nell. 
 
 229
 
 CHAPTER XXII. 
 
 How the " Prince " worked up a corner and a " bull " 
 market. 
 
 Harold York sat in his private office and cogitated. 
 As he passed through the first rooms he had 
 left word with Joe that he was not to be disturbed 
 for the present. But the " Prince's " mind was of 
 the genus, active. A complex thought he dismissed, 
 as too much bother to disentangle; he arrived at a 
 conclusion quickly, and acted just as quickly. He 
 cogitated about ten seconds, then touched an electric 
 button, in response to which the shiny, bald pate of 
 Joe appeared at the door, and the interrogative eyes 
 of Joe said, " Did you ring, sir? " 
 
 To this silent question, Mr. York replied, " Sit 
 down, Joe ; I have an important commission for you to 
 execute and I want you to understand what you are 
 about before you begin, see?" 
 
 Joe did see, both with his eyes and his under 
 standing, for he nodded his head, and his master con 
 tinued : " There will be an exhibition of paintings of 
 American artists at the American Institute, commenc 
 ing next week. Among the collection there are some 
 signed ' Ola Del. ' I want to buy those Ola Del 
 pictures, see? " 
 
 Same nod and same silence from Joe. 
 
 " But I don't want to get them for less than they 
 are worth, see? " 
 
 230
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 At this juncture Joe saw more than his master 
 gave him credit for. But he had been too long in 
 Mr. York's employ " to give anything away, " so 
 he just made the same nod and kept the same still 
 tongue ; which practice may have given wisdom to his 
 head, but, presumably, had nothing to do with his 
 baldness. 
 
 " I have had those pictures appraised by a com 
 petent artist; here is a catalogue, with the estimated 
 values this man puts upon the pictures set down op 
 posite each number. " 
 
 The " Prince " did not feel himself obligated to 
 tell Joe that he had had a private sitting with Ola's 
 old master, and that to the figures given by the old 
 man, which were large enough, conscience 'knows, he 
 had added a generous double. Certainly not. That 
 was none of Joe's business. 
 
 " I want you to leave orders with half-a-dozen 
 or more dealers in art, to bid on those Ola Del 
 pictures, see? " 
 
 " Yes sir, " said Joe, " match orders, to make 
 a ' bull ' market. " 
 
 " Just so, " said Mr. York. " Now, of course, if 
 the outside chips in, we will have to take what they 
 give us. You stand close to the auctioneer and keep 
 quiet. If you see that a picture is going to one of 
 your own men, all right ; if not, you get it, see ? " 
 
 Same nod, same silence. 
 
 " You will have to make a deposit with those art 
 dealers, and go well heeled yourself, see ? " 
 
 231
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 Same nod from Joe, but not a single word ut 
 tered. 
 
 " I am not to be known in the matter, see? " and 
 the " Prince " nodded his own head and rather 
 squinted one of his eyes. 
 
 There was evidently enough force about this 
 action to unseal Joe's lips, for he said, " Yes sir, I 
 understand." 
 
 "Very well, that's all," and Mr. York handed 
 Joe the cash with which to start the "bull " market 
 on the Ola Del pictures. Exit Joe. 
 
 "Poor little thing;" mused the "Prince," "I 
 think her heart would be broken if those pictures at 
 tracted no " Then he struck the tiny bell again, and 
 re-enter Joe. 
 
 " By the way, Joe, do you happen to be on 
 chummy terms with any of the art critics of the lead 
 ing New York newspapers?" 
 
 " No sir, " said Joe. 
 
 " Well, get there, " said the " Prince. " 
 
 " All right sir, " said Joe. 
 
 " That's all. " Re-exit Joe. 
 
 Then Mr. York took up his musings where he 
 had left off. " Poor little thing. I think her heart 
 would be broke, if those pictures attracted no atten 
 tion, and sold for a song. They shall be talked up 
 enough, and bring the best price of any collection in 
 the exhibit. I'll see to that, ' Baby. ' But they shan't 
 any one except Harold York ever own one of them. 
 No, siree! Not if my six months' note, after I've put 
 
 232
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 up my G. S. bonds, can be discontinued for enough to 
 pay for them. No, sir! They're going to be mine, 
 every one of them. " 
 
 Joe went forth on his mission. He had been years 
 with Harold York, had served that gentleman when 
 he was a member of " the board, " and Joe knew all 
 the tricks in the trade of making a " bull " market. 
 By the time the doors of the exhibition were thrown 
 open to the public, Joe had found the right men to 
 " put on to, " and " work " the art critics ; had left, 
 in person and by proxy, a limited cross-order with 
 well known art dealers, with whom Joe made a large 
 cash deposit, as a guarantee of good faith. Joe hadn't 
 much confidence in the efficacy of prayer, but when he 
 could feel his vest pocket bulge out with a good wad of 
 bank bills or certified checks, he felt pretty sure he'd 
 " get there ; " and he was absolutely sure of this, when 
 he knew he could " oversize the other fellow's pile. '' 
 
 Joe sauntered along through the rooms of the ex 
 hibition and " took a good, square look " at the Ola Del 
 paintings. They were in crayon, pastel, water 
 colors and oil. There were one or two flower pieces, 
 one of fruit, two or three landscapes, a pig eating out 
 of a trough, and a cat with her kittens. The rest 
 were what might be called ideal portraits; for, if the 
 face had been intended to represent any special per 
 son, there was something in the pose, or in the ex 
 pression, which would make the picture just as valu 
 able to a perfect stranger, as to a. friend of the one 
 portrayed. Joe sauntered along, " took them all in, " 
 
 233
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 and said, " Nothing like a woman, to make a fool of 
 a man. " 
 
 At length Joe halted before one. It represented a 
 woman standing at an open window at night, look 
 ing up at the stars. The bare feet peeped out from a 
 night dress that clung beautifully, here and there, to 
 a most perfect female figure. The long black hair 
 hung in ripples over her shoulders and down her 
 back; the eyes had a soft expression in their grey 
 depths. 
 
 " Gosh ! " said Joe,- " I wouldn't mind having that 
 myself. But where have I seen that face? Darned 
 if I know, but I've seen it some place. " 
 
 The Captain of the " Grant, " and Mr. Cameron 
 " swaggered " through the rooms of the exhibit. Mr. 
 Cameron had kept the Captain posted as to the 
 progress of his love affair with Ola, and the Captain 
 expected to dance at his friend's wedding soon after 
 this exhibition was over, and see Benners tossed over 
 board. 
 
 "What do you think of them?" said Mr. Came 
 ron to the Captain. 
 
 " Good enough, for a woman, " growled the Cap 
 tain. 
 
 " There is a look of Ola, in that, " thought Mr. 
 Cameron, gazing intently at the same canvas that 
 had attracted the attention of Joe. " If it doesn't go 
 too high at the sale, I must buy it." Then both he 
 and the Captain passed on. 
 
 Will Fallen, well clothed and gentlemanly look 
 ing, scrutinized each of the Ola Del pictures. " She 
 
 234
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 has improved wonderfully," he said to himself. " Pity 
 she can't go to Europe." Then he came to the white- 
 robed woman, gazing at the stars. " Ah, here my 
 dainty, patrician wife, who pays tribute rather than 
 acknowledge a ' prison bird, ' has idealized herself. I 
 must have that picture at the sale. How fortunate 
 that I won a fat wad at faro last night. The Devil is 
 good to his own. " 
 
 Mr. York also halted before this picture, and said, 
 "I wonder if it is in my imagination?" Then he 
 went up to Joe and asked, " Have you everything ar 
 ranged?" In all the years that Joe had been with 
 his master, such an insinuation against his compre 
 hension and fidelity had never before been made. The 
 man really thought seriously of resigning; but he just 
 nodded and kept silent. Then the " Prince " walked 
 on. 
 
 Lieutenant Adrian Benners balanced himself 
 against the waves that did not rock the rooms of the 
 exhibit, and looked proudly at those pictures which 
 had received such long and friendly notice from the 
 critics. It really made him feel good all over to think 
 that he and he alone had the love of the woman who 
 painted them. When he came to the one which had 
 seemed to give pause to all of the others, he inwardly 
 apostrophized, "Many a time have I pulled all of the 
 pins out of that black hair, and tied your own hands 
 with it, you dear girl. That drapery which conceals, 
 reveals more to my eyes that it could to another. 
 How fortunate that a pay-day comes between this 
 and the time of the auction. I must have that. " 
 
 235
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 The " Banker " minced along, with his toes 
 turned in. " What a waste of the time of a lovely 
 woman who might be an ornament to my home. " 
 
 Then, suddenly, his attention was fixed. With his 
 perfumed handkerchief he wiped off his glasses, al 
 most turned out his toes, and said: "I haven't much 
 use for pictures, generally speaking; but gad! there 
 is a look in that face that reminds me of her. I must 
 make a memorandum of the number and put in a bid 
 for it. I don't suppose it will bring more than a hun 
 dred dollars, at the most. " 
 
 He wrote the number in his note book, made a 
 memorandum of his intentions and passed on. 
 
 Ola's old master strolled through the rooms. He 
 was proud of her work. When he came to the star 
 gazing woman, he remarked, " That's the poorest piece 
 she has. I did not want her to put it on exhibition. " 
 Then he found a dozen faults or so with it, and 
 walked on. 
 
 ' The star-gazing woman ' was among the first of 
 Ola's pictures to be sold ; and at first, Mr. Cameron 
 and Lieutenant Benners seemed to have the field. At 
 length Mr. Cameron, who was a better hand at saving 
 money than the Lieutenant, bid beyond the Lieuten 
 ant's monthly salary and what he thought he could 
 count upon borrowing from Lewes, until the next pay 
 day; so the Lieutenant dropped out, and Mr. Cameron 
 thought the picture was going to be knocked down to 
 him. Just on the third and last call, however, one of the 
 art dealers put in a bid of a few dollars more. (Cam 
 eron was no coward; he came back to the fray, and 
 
 236
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 bid against the art dealer until he had reached the 
 limit of his savings ; then he dropped out, feeling 
 glad that Benners did not get it, and holding almost 
 a personal spite against the dealer. When Cameron, 
 therefore, saw Will Fallen bid against the dealer, al 
 though he had no idea who the man was, he felt al 
 most like shaking Fallon's hand. Fallen and the 
 dealer had it to themselves for a while, but Fallen 
 apparently went beyond Joe's limit, for the art dealer 
 dropped out. 
 
 " Nine hundred dollars, " shouted the auctioneer. 
 " Third and last" 
 
 " Nine hundred and fifty, " said Joe softly, just at 
 the auctioneer's elbow. 
 
 Joe and Fallon had it for a time all to themselves. 
 But the twelve hundred mark " used up " Fallon's 
 " pile, " as he expressed it. 
 
 " It would do my soul good to use that juvenile 
 patriarch's bald head as a foot ball, " said Fallon as 
 he retired from the list of competitors. 
 
 Then Joe had a bout with the " Banker. " 
 
 Mr. York stood by with a pleased expression in 
 his blue eyes, and said to himself: " You're getting a 
 lot of money, ain't you 'Baby?' If they all go like 
 this one, I will be as poor at the end of this sale, as 
 I was the day I gave you that commission on the 
 Harlem land. I borrowed my supper money that 
 night of the old missionary. Well, never mind; I 
 can borrow of him again. " 
 
 Joe and the " Banker " had got the picture up 
 to two thousand dollars. The " Prince's " practiced 
 
 237
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 eye saw signs that the " Banker " was " exhausting 
 himself. " Unlike all the rest, he felt sorry to see the 
 man retire from the contest. Harold York never for 
 one moment thought of the fact that his own money 
 would have to settle the bill. He enjoyed the sport, 
 and it would please his darling. That was what he 
 thought about. 
 
 After Joe's bid of two thousand dollars was called 
 by the auctioneer, the " Banker " turned away, say 
 ing: " Gad, he wants it worse than I do. I wouldn't 
 give two thousand dollars for a picture as big as the 
 side of Trinity Church. " 
 
 This genuine enthusiasm, which was not due to 
 artistic merit, but entirely to a personal feeling, affect 
 ed the entire sale. Her old master, though pleased, 
 said, " Well, well. No one can ever account for what 
 the public will do. " 
 
 The " Pirate " rubbed his big hands, and his 
 blotched old face grew redder. The whole business 
 was as much of a surprise to him as it was to any 
 body else, except those in the " Prince's " employ. 
 But he would brag to Ola, and everybody else he 
 knew, that her pictures had all, every one of them, 
 been sold to his wealthy patrons, and he would claim 
 his reward. This he did, but like almost all petty 
 rascals, he did not calculate finely enough. 
 
 In reply to his bragging, and his claiming his 
 reward, she said, " Give me a little time to rest. Do 
 you say they were all sold to your patrons?" 
 
 " Yes, all, " said the " Pirate. " Lies cost nothing, 
 hence he was generous. 
 
 238
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 "Very well, who bought number thirty-five? It 
 was one of the best things on exhibition, and it sold 
 for about the least of any of them. I should like to 
 buy it of the owner. " 
 
 The " Pirate's " face grew red and he rubbed his 
 hands. " He couldn't just tell at that moment. He 
 would have to look over his books. " 
 
 In his own mind the scoundrel counted upon find 
 ing out from the auctioneer. The name on the books 
 was that of a well known art dealer, who told the 
 " Pirate " he had bid the picture in on a cash deposit 
 order from a stranger. "Who?" He hadn't the 
 slightest idea. There the matter must rest; but Ola 
 was no business woman, no one knew that better than 
 he did. She had never asked him a single question 
 about any transaction he had ever made for her. After 
 she should have quite forgotten about number thirty- 
 five, he would renew the attack upon her to marry 
 him. 
 
 Mr. Cameron came to Ola and told her of his 
 love for her and his desire to marry her. She put her 
 hands in his and said, " Mr. Cameron, no man is more 
 worthy of the love of a good woman than you are. I 
 am not a good woman. I doubt if any ambious woman 
 is good ; but, as bad as I am, I am too good to deceive 
 you. The truth is, my friend, I cannot marry you. I 
 could not marry any good man. " 
 
 239
 
 CHAPTER XXIII. 
 " And God made man in his own image and likeness." 
 
 By dint of his talents in the detective line, Will 
 Fallon kept himself well posted as to what his wife 
 was doing. When he knew the " Prince " was her 
 patron, he had tried to frighten her into increasing 
 his allowance, but she told him, most emphatically, 
 that she would let him kill her first. After the sale of 
 her pictures, which had brought a price that astonished 
 her, and everybody else, he began to demand an in 
 terview with her. The real object of this interview 
 was to get money from her; but to one person, 
 the " Pirate, " he pretended something quite different. 
 Fallon had shadowed the " Pirate " from Ola's home 
 to the store on the Bowery, and from the old miser 
 he learned of his (the " Pirate's ") wish to marry Ola. 
 This ambition on the " Pirate's " part amused Fallon 
 immensely; but he assumed a sympathy with the old 
 man, and told him that he could and would help him 
 to get her. 
 
 Wonders never cease. Fallon actually borrowed, 
 a few dollars at a time, considerable money from the 
 old man. But this state of affairs could not last for 
 ever. The " Pirate " began to demand the delivery of 
 the goods, in somewhat emphatic terms. Then Fallon 
 prepared his " coup de theatre " by urging Ola to 
 come to his rooms and see him. He wrote : " You 
 
 240
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 have so many satellites, having now become the talk 
 of the town, that it is much better for you not to 
 run the risk of being compromised by a visit from a 
 suspicious character, even when, I might more prop 
 erly say, that man is your husband." 
 
 She endured the persecution for a time, then, 
 coward like, she went. Ola knew thoroughly well 
 that Fallon wanted money; so she took nothing with 
 her, except a dollar in change. 
 
 Meantime Fallon had arranged to have the 
 " Pirate " arrive in advance of the hour set by Ola, 
 with the idea of allowing the old rascal secretly to 
 overhear the conversation between himself and his 
 his wife. 
 
 The " Pirate " arrived ; and Will Fallon threw a 
 pillow behind a high-backed sofa, which formed the 
 hypothenuse of a right-angled triangle, the walls of 
 the room forming the two other sides. But upon the 
 hypothenuse of that right-angled triangle, was to be 
 demonstrated a problem vastly different from the cele 
 brated forty-seventh of Euclid. 
 
 When Ola was announced, the " Pirate " crowded 
 his six-feet and more of length into that corner, with 
 as much comfort as the pillow and his cramped posi 
 tion would permit. Nothing that mortal man ever 
 enjoyed equaled the laugh Fallon took, when he saw 
 the " Pirate " safely stowed away. In fact, he could 
 not repress his mirth, or get the corners of his mouth 
 drawn down, by the time Ola reached his room. 
 
 His amusement was so noticeable that she said, 
 " Something seems to have pleased you. " 
 
 241
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 " Could I be otherwise than pleased at receiving 
 a visit from my distinguished, beautiful, honored wife?" 
 and he tickled himself more and more, wondering how 
 the " Pirate " enjoyed this surprise. " At any rate," 
 thought Fallen, " he can ' faint and fall in it ' without 
 having far to go." 
 
 Ola made no reply whatever to this splenetic re 
 mark. Fallon waved his hand toward a chair, and 
 said, "Will your majesty deign to be seated?" 
 
 Ola sank down in the chair indicated, and Fallon 
 sat on the sofa behind which he had stowed away the 
 " Pirate, " the while looking at Ola with an expres 
 sion of diabolical admiration; for Fallon was really 
 proud of his wife. He knew she loathed him, but she 
 was his wife; she could not get away from that. At 
 present she was something of a celebrity, much 
 courted and admired, and he thought her pure. 
 Though Fallon would not scruple to make the most 
 insulting insinuations to Ola as to the nature of her 
 relations with one or more of the men who admired 
 her, he rather boasted to himself that not alone was 
 she his wife, but that he could always take his hat off 
 to her. 
 
 Determined now to apply the torture at once to 
 her, and to the " Pirate," he said, " Really, my girl, you 
 do me proud. You're a thoroughbred, and no mistake. 
 I tell you, your juggling beats that of the East India 
 conjurers all hollow. Here you are my most beloved 
 wife, and at the same time have promised to marry 
 that snake-eyed, blotched, pustuled, eruptioned, vam 
 pire that keeps the art store down on the Bowery. 
 
 242
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 What your relations may be with that handsome piece 
 of conceit in the Navy, Lieutenant Benners, I presume 
 you would hesitate to say. " 
 
 " Having admitted, tacitly or otherwise, that 
 I am your wife, there is no degradation which I need 
 blush to acknowledge. Lieutenant Benners is a man 
 of the world, in whose dictionary the word marriage 
 cannot be found. Naturally, then, the love he could 
 feel for a woman could be of but one character ! We 
 love each other. Am I sufficiently explicit, or would 
 you have me define more precisely. " 
 
 " Not necessary at all, madam, I assure you. 
 With that little anti-sacramental naval contract of 
 yours, our marriage need not interfere. How about 
 the others? May I ask if you contemplate doing 
 a little Lucretia Borgia business in order to wed your 
 Adonis on the Bowery?" 
 
 " I might possibly be found equal to the task, 
 if the game were worth the candle. As it is not, you 
 can draw your weekly allowance, gamble it off or go to 
 bed and sleep, as you like. I shall not poison you. Wha^ 
 an honor you are to the Church of Rome and the Irish 
 nation !" said Ola, and the disgust of her whole soul 
 was in her words. 
 
 " 'Tis slight, madam, slight indeed, compared 
 to the lustre you reflect upon atheism, femininity, and 
 the American nation. I am proud to yield precedence 
 to my wife. With pardonable vanity I acknowledge 
 her superiority in all things. " 
 
 Fallon was exceedingly uncomfortable. He had 
 intended to get an acknowledgement from Ola that 
 
 243
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 she was his wife, and thus send the old " Pirate " off, 
 after having told him that he could steal a greater 
 sum from future pictures sold for Ola, in order to even 
 up on the debt; but, all to his dismay, he found the 
 tables turned upon himself; found that the "Pirate"' 
 had the right to point the finger of shame at him ; and 
 he felt downright angry at Ola for putting him in this 
 fix. 
 
 " May I ask you how you expect to make good 
 your promise to marry your Bowery Apollo, 
 madam? " 
 
 " You may ask me nothing. Have an end to this 
 talk. What do you want?" 
 
 At this moment a movement behind the sofa at 
 tracted Ola's attention. It was too pronounced to 
 be ignored, so Will Fallon arose from his seat, rolled 
 the sofa around, and said : " Come out, Lothario, and 
 plead your own cause. " 
 
 The " Pirate " scrambled to his feet as best he 
 could ; his blotched and blistered face took on a deeper 
 vermilion hue, but he could seemingly find no words 
 to say. 
 
 Ola looked first at him, then at Fallon. She felt 
 that words could not express her disgust. Raising her 
 hands, as if to pray after the manner of the ancient 
 sun worshippers, she said, " And God made man in 
 his own image and likeness. Let us praise His holy 
 name. I am now consoled that I am not a man. I 
 now rejoice that I am a woman. " Then to the 
 " Pirate, " "You have heard what he said. You know 
 he is my husband; but don't let that discourage you. 
 
 244
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 He will die soon. There is no doubt of it. Such men 
 as he, always die, " and she laughed mockingly, 
 bitterly. 
 
 " There is no occasion for that, old man. I told 
 you I could give her to you, and now I tell you, if 
 you want her, I will. Don't ask me how; there is 
 no need, but simply tell me if you wish to marry her," 
 said Fallen, and he looked keenly at the " Pirate. *' 
 Ola was also watching and listening. 
 
 " Yes, I" want her for my wife, " said the 
 " Pirate, " and with his snaky, lecherous eyes, he de 
 voured her. 
 
 Will Fallen was about to speak, when Ola raised 
 her hand and said sternly, " Stop a moment," then to 
 the " Pirate :" " There is a man, whose name 
 it would be a profanation, a sacrilege, a 
 blasphemy, to mention within these walls; but 
 to that man, who is a very prince among men, I 
 am under every possible obligation his pure love 
 could bestow upon me. So much of veneration and 
 worship is there in my love, that I can scarce think 
 of him as a human being, as a man ; but rather as one 
 privileged by some power omnipotent, to live above 
 the level of humanity. I would give my life to be 
 what that man thinks I am. He, also, wants to marry 
 me. But if that creature," and she pointed to Fallen, 
 "were dead, and turned to dust, I would not marry 
 him, because of Lieutenant Benners" and she lowered 
 her voice to the most mournful cadence. " If I dare 
 not trust myself, dare not hope I could be true to this 
 one, off whose boots you are not worthy to scrape 
 
 245
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 the mud, be very sure I would not be to you. Will you 
 marry me, and share me with Lieutenant Benners, 
 provided he will give me to you?" said Ola, looking 
 at Fallen with all the scorn and disgust she could 
 summon into voice and gesture. 
 
 The " Pirate " bowed his head in token of his 
 desire to have her in any way. And Will Fallen 
 laughed. " Who would not be puffed up with pride, 
 at having a wife so much in demand? I wonder which 
 one of you will bid the highest, you or York? Make 
 your offer to-night, and I'll get his to-morrow. " 
 
 " Hush, " said Ola, fiercely, addressing Fallen. 
 " The one frail thread that links my soul to Heaven, 
 the one hope I have for my own. ultimate salvation, 
 and redemption, is Harold York's love for me. If one 
 word of what has passed here to-day ever comes 
 to his ears, I shall hold you responsible for it. If he 
 ever learns of Lieutenant Benners, if he were to know 
 I have bartered with that creature, " and she pointed 
 to the " Pirate, " " he would die of a broken heart. I 
 love Harold York. I love him with every good sen 
 timent there is within me. I shall not give him up. 
 There is one thing that will bind you to silence, 
 Fallen, and that is money. If you lisp one syllable to 
 Mr. York, I shall then be free. There would be no 
 possible incentive for me to shrink from all the pub 
 licity the scandal mongers could wish, and I should 
 accept the disgrace, rather than give you another cent. 
 You shall not, through me, strike the one noble man 
 I have ever known. " 
 
 " Ah, rot ! " said Fallon, " give me a rest on your 
 246
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 melodrama. There is no such thing as nobility in 
 man. They are all just alike, except that some are 
 cleaner than others. " 
 
 " Yes, cleaner in morals especially, " said Ola. 
 
 " This little demi-god of yours, who does a bank 
 ing business on Wall Street, has got the big head, 
 that's all that ails him. " 
 
 Ola looked at Fallen inquiringly, but said noth 
 ing. He understood the look, and went on. 
 
 " You stuffed him with these two conceits he 
 was a disinterested, generous, unselfish, high-minded, 
 chivalrous, sublime hero ; you were a guiltless, blame 
 less, immaculate, little lamb. You in your icily affec 
 tionate, keep-at-your-distance way, stuffed the man 
 chock full of these ideas. His noddle isn't -capable of 
 holding more than three things : he must always strut 
 before you, trailing the purple of royalty with which 
 you have invested him ; he must make money ; and he 
 must fold that immaculate little lamb in his arms, and 
 carry it over all the rough places of life. What's that 
 but conceit? Simon-pure, at that. " You wanted to be 
 famous. He swore by all the bulls and bears on 
 Wall Street that you should be. He hired masters for 
 you, and you went to work; your pictures were ready 
 for the exhibition. They attracted a goodly share of 
 public notice are critics don't come so very high. 
 Your pictures were sold at public auction, and 
 brought prices which amazed everybody, except the 
 interested and initiated few. I was there, and I 
 noticed that two or three well-known dealers in art 
 were animated bidders. If no outsider entered the con- 
 
 247
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 test, the pictures were knocked down to one or the 
 other of these ; but if an unknown man bid, then a fat, 
 bald-headed, off-color-diamond-bedecked individual 
 seemingly with orders to buy, price unlimited, got 
 the picture knocked down to him. This fat, dark, 
 bald-headed, off-color-diamond-bedecked individual, 
 is Joe, Harold York's confidential man, and at this 
 moment, every one of those pictures hangs on the walls 
 of York's bachelor apartments. " 
 
 Ola looked at the " Pirate," wondering if there 
 is any limit to the duplicity and fraud a man will prac 
 tice on a woman. " So, Mr. York was your customer, 
 was he ? " she said. 
 
 " Mr. York was not that reprobate's customer ; he 
 was York's tool, hired, like the others, by Joe, to bull 
 the market on the Ola Del pictures, " said Fallon. 
 " Oh, I know what I am talking about. There 
 was one of those pictures, a woman in a thin night 
 dress which clung and nestled here and there and I 
 don't blame it. This woman was standing by an open 
 window at night looking up at the stars. A wealth of 
 long, black, wavy hair hung down her back. That was 
 well done, Ola. The likeness was suggestive, but 
 not pronounced. Under this picture was written : 
 ' They dwell in the stars our beloved dead. ' I 
 wanted that bit of canvas. It would have been more 
 to me than it could have been to anybody else. I 
 had been playing in pretty good luck the night before, 
 and I bid on it, up to the last cent I had and what I 
 thought I could get on my jewelry; but York was 
 too well heeled for me he got it. I even tried to buy 
 
 248
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 it afterwards, by representing myself as an English 
 nobleman of boundless wealth, but York shut me up, 
 by saying that the picture was not for sale at any 
 price, nor to any person, not even a king. " 
 
 And Fallen sighed regretfully. His better-self 
 was moved by the memory of the old, happy days, 
 when Ola had loved him and respected him. To that 
 very love for Ola, was the greater part of Fallen's 
 sins attributable. He had really loved her, had 
 recognized and acknowledged to himself her superior 
 ity. He wanted to give his wife all the luxuries to 
 which she had been accustomed. He could not do 
 it honestly; the gambler spirit within him warped his 
 judgment; he took the money of others to speculate 
 with, and lost; was imprisoned; hence he was a thief. 
 Had he won, he would have been pointed out as a 
 young Napoleon of Finance; his wife would have 
 loved, and better yet, she would have respected him 
 they would have been happy. 
 
 On mere chance, the happiness of millions of peo 
 ple rests. That cardinal dishonesty which is the 
 groundwork of the gambler's character was within 
 Fallen; success could not have changed that to the 
 nobler sentiment which finds satisfaction in giving 
 value for value; but the approbation of the world 
 would have enabled him to hold up his head, and 
 he would 'not have fallen into the deeper degradation 
 of living on his wife. 
 
 Ola went away and left Fallon and the " Pirate" 
 together. Fallon succeeded in borrowing some money 
 of the old man, upon his promise to get a divorce from 
 
 249
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 her. He told the " Pirate " that Ola's talk about Lieu 
 tenant Benners was mere lying brag, intended to 
 wound her husband (and both Fallen and the 
 " Pirate" believed this), but that it would serve their 
 purpose to get the divorce on. 
 
 The old miser hated to let his money go, but 
 he wanted the woman, and he estimated that he was 
 still a trifle ahead on the sale of her pictures so 
 he was not actually out of pocket. His time he would 
 consider paid for, in that he had seen and talked to 
 Ola occasionally. 
 
 The " Pirate " went away and left Fallon to his 
 speculations as to where he could find a victim to rob 
 at cards that night. He remembered he had 
 even forgotten to ask Ola for money, but never 
 mind ; he had been rather lucky of late, perhaps he 
 could catch that young star to-night after the per 
 formance, and work both the "glass" and the " lizard " 
 on him. 
 
 As Ola passed into the open air to go home, 
 she felt a sensation of relief. The atmosphere in Fal 
 lon 's room was heavy with perfume ; this had given 
 her nausea; perfumes always did. There had come a 
 thaw, followed by a sudden freezing, and the 
 streets were as slippery as glass. She went 
 home, but could not content herself. In the evening 
 Jack and Nell went out, so she would in all probability 
 be alone. She felt little inclined to endure her 
 own thoughts, and about as little to seeing any one 
 who was likely to call. She half expected 
 Lieutenant Benners, as it was about time for the 
 
 250
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 " Grant " to return to New York, but he could come 
 some other time, she thought. 
 
 She decided to go and make " Bronze " a visit. 
 She had seen little of " Bronze " since the latter took 
 up housekeeping on her own account. Ola had been 
 busy, and " Bronze " was always surrounded by a 
 coterie of admirers and idlers, not always over con 
 genial to Ola's taste. When she reached the flat, Ola 
 found " Bronze " at home, and, for a wonder, alone. 
 The two women talked. " Bronze " expressed her 
 happiness at Ola's prosperity, and asked her when 
 she was going to be married to the " Prince. " 
 
 " I am not likely to marry any body, ' Bronze, * 
 least of all, Mr. York," said Ola. 
 
 " Why not? " said " Bronze. " 
 
 " I don't know, " said Ola. 
 
 " Bronze " thought her friend did not seem to 
 warm up much on matrimony, so they dropped the 
 subject and chatted about " Bronze's " admirers, al 
 ways a topic of interest without end for the girl. 
 She told Ola of all her recent conquests, and the time 
 passed pleasantly enough for an half hour, when the 
 bell rang. There was nothing in that, for " Bronze " 
 was seldom alone, even for an evening. " Bronze " 
 kept no servant; she was out so often to dinner and 
 lunch it was scarcely necessary. So now that the 
 bell rang, she was obliged to go to the door. 
 
 " You dear girl, I am so glad you are at home. 
 We just got in. " 
 
 A hearty smack, a woman's happy laugh, 
 and " Bronze " and Lieutenant Benners walked into 
 
 251
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 the room. A gesture or a look from " Bronze " at 
 the hall door would have saved the Lieutenant from 
 committing himself; but it would have deprived 
 " Bronze " of the happiness of letting Ola know her 
 lover was false to her ; and " Bronze " was scarce 
 equal to the self sacrifice requisite. Ola arose and 
 greeted the Lieutenant more than cordially. " Bronze" 
 should not have the satisfaction of witnessing another 
 exhibition of temper from her. With more than her 
 usual vivacity, she launched into conversation. Later 
 on Captain Gordon called. The Captain was quiet and 
 had little to say. " Bronze " led him to infer that 
 Ola and the Lieutenant had called together and Ola, 
 knowing the Captain loved " Bronze, " and was ever 
 tormented by his jealousies, lent herself to this little 
 fraud. Accordingly when it was near eleven and she 
 rose to go, the Lieutenant rose with her. Each was 
 master of the situation. No word betrayed that the 
 Lieutenant had not really been her escort and 
 they made their adieus with such easy amiability 
 all round, that no one would have dreamed any 
 thing extraordinary had happened. The Captain 
 relieved in his mind as to the Lieutenant's footing as 
 a rival, was delighted at being left in possession of' 
 the field, and " Bronze " was astonished and piqued 
 at Ola's apparent indifference to the Lieutenant's pres 
 ence there. 
 
 Ola and the Lieutenant after a laughing exit, de 
 scended the stairs in silence. On the steps into the 
 street she turned and faced him. 
 
 " We are alone here, I shall detain you but a 
 252
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 moment. No word from you could make matters any 
 better, so spare yourself the trouble of speaking. From 
 this hour you must go out of my life. Of course, at 
 present, I am angry with you. But I do not deceive 
 myself. I know the dominion you have over me. 
 The crimes I have already committed against my own 
 self-respect, and against those who love me, leave 
 me no hope that I could do better in future. For 
 some reason which I do not understand, I am your 
 slave when you are with me, but I can think and act 
 sanely enough when you are not around. Should you, 
 by giving me time to cool off, come back to me, and 
 put your arms around me, and talk to me, I should 
 fall again, and I know it. But do not attempt it; for 
 as sure as I live to see one sane hour after that de 
 lirium with which you always charge me has passed 
 away, I shall put it beyond your power to make me 
 suffer more shame, by severing my jugular vein, with 
 the little pen-knife you gave me. I mean exactly what 
 I say. You can conquer me, that I know, but I can 
 and shall do what I tell you. Be warned; my death 
 would surely disgrace you. There are plenty of 
 women in the world, and you are easy to please; go 
 forth and make your conquests. " . 
 
 Her teeth chattered, and her face was white with 
 anger. She stepped down from the stone steps, and 
 walked away from him. The earnestness of her 
 speech and manner had carried conviction with it. In 
 that moment, the Lieutenant realized she was lost to 
 him forever, that all was indeed over between them. 
 
 Did he feel any remorse for his duplicity? Not 
 253
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 the least; but he damned his luck. There was a sense 
 of satisfaction in the knowledge that he controlled her, 
 when nobody else could. ' Ah ! well, there were 
 plenty of women in this world, and there was not a 
 great deal of difference in them after all. Cameron 
 was out of the list, that was one consolation,' thought 
 Lieutenant Benners as he wended his way back to the 
 " Grant. " 
 
 " There is nothing left me now but cold, cold, 
 work, absorbing ambition, and death," said Ola, as 
 she entered her little home. 
 
 254
 
 CHAPTER XXIV. 
 The glass, the lizard and the paster. 
 
 That same slippery, stormy night in the beginning 
 of February upon which Ola had gone to visit 
 " Bronze, " Will Fallen started out in quest of a vic 
 tim. There were certain things about Fallen which 
 contributed greatly to his success. First, he main 
 tained a show of being a bread-winner by leaving 
 around in various places, cards requesting expert 
 book-keeping jobs. Second, he was, to the superficial 
 observer, a gentleman. Third, he kept himself well 
 informed on current events and topics of general in 
 terest. Fourth, he was always neatly and tastefully 
 dressed. 
 
 Fallon was visionary enough to believe he would 
 "make his pile" some night; and actors were his 
 favorite victims. 
 
 He spent hours and hours alone in his room, 
 practicing with all the various cheating machinery, 
 invented for the use of gamblers of which he had 
 ever heard. 
 
 It is said these appliances cannot be used with 
 great success by one gambler on another. It is also 
 said that gamblers consider it, at best, but a waste of 
 time to play with one another. As to the principles 
 of the sporting fraternity in general, our knowledge 
 
 255
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 as we are respectable is necessarily limited; but as 
 to Will Fallen, we know everything. 
 
 There were a number of tricks in which Fall >n 
 was ambitious to achieve perfection. One was the 
 management of a little machine known as the "lizard. ' 
 This was actually a small, metallic lizard, worn 
 under the shirt sleeve and fastened by straps 
 and buckles to the body. By pressing the arm against 
 the side, a spring was acted upon, the lizard crawled 
 gently down the arm, took a card in its mouth, and, 
 the pressure on the spring being removed, ran home 
 again. 
 
 Another trick which Fallen practiced faithfully 
 was to paste a thin diamond spot on the seven of 
 diamonds, thus making that same seven an eight. 
 
 One added to seven, undeviatingly does make 
 eight; and it is usually quite easy to add the one to 
 the seven ; it becomes, generally speaking, exceedingly 
 easy when you have the seven, and can get the one. 
 But this was an exceptional case. Fallon had both 
 the seven and the one, and yet, to produce a satis 
 factory eight was not so easy as might be imagined. 
 
 The work must be done quickly, but not so hur 
 riedly as to cause the requisite movement to attract 
 attention. The spurious diamond must be put down 
 in exactly the right spot, at the first attempt; for the 
 surface of the card must not be smeared with the 
 soap or paste which has been used to stick it on. 
 All of which manipulations require practice and 
 patience. 
 
 But that which most troubled Fallon, was to 
 256
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 learn the use of " the glass. " " The glass, " is a 
 small mirror, about the size of a silver ten-cent piece, 
 and is used by sticking it on the left hand, at the root 
 of the third ringer, and, when dealing the cards, draw 
 ing them slightly back, so that the indicator will be 
 reflected in the mirror. There is a small figure in the 
 corner of most playing cards which is called an in 
 dicator, as it indicates or tells the suit and value of 
 the card. It was such cards that Fallon used; and 
 that little figure was what he wanted to see and re 
 member. But it takes no inconsiderable amount of 
 practice in this trick to make it of any service, so far 
 as winning money is concerned. 
 
 Fallon once told an intimate acquaintance that 
 he had known gamblers men whom the " sporting 
 fraternity " recognized as shrewd, level-headed men 
 who, having practiced with the " glass " for years, 
 in the hope of acquiring the skill to use it, had finally 
 given it up. He himself had sufficiently mastered it to 
 remember three hands, in four-handed poker. The 
 ability to know what cards his opponent held, you will 
 observe, could be his, only at his own deal ; and con 
 sequently upon his own deal it was necessary for 
 him to " bet his big cash. " However, these four- 
 handed poker games, with the use of the " glass, " 
 made very exhausting work for Fallon, and he much 
 preferred to play with but one person, and to have 
 that one of the unsuspecting, innocent type. 
 
 Before he started out on that slippery, nasty night 
 in the beginning of February, after the day upon 
 which Ola had visited him in the afternoon, he sat 
 
 257
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 musing upon his chances. He finally came to the 
 conclusion that it was of little or no use to muse, since 
 he could neither tell whom he might meet, nor yet 
 " how much of the dust they might have lying about 
 loose," so he began to draw on his overcoat, saying 
 that he " would meander up the Rialto. " 
 
 " I wonder if it is not about time for that young 
 sculptor to have another remittance from home. " 
 
 The sculptor of whom Fallon was thinking was a 
 young Italian of a noble and moderately wealthy 
 family, who was spending the five years between his 
 twenty-first and twenty-sixth birthday " abroad," in 
 order to avoid serving in the Italian army. The laws 
 of Italy required (at that time, at least) this service 
 of all her young men. His art was a passion 
 with the young man, not a necessity. He was 
 young, inexperienced and as innocent as a " man of 
 the world " of his age well could be. The Italian had 
 a high-born scorn for trickery and deception. He had 
 gambled a little with Fallon and generally lost, but 
 that was not to be wondered at. 
 
 A few months before this slippery, nasty night in 
 February, Fallon had caught the sculptor when he 
 was " flush, " having just received money from home, 
 and, by the aid of " the glass," without compunc 
 tion had robbed the youngster of his last cent. 
 Laughing as he arose from the table, the sculptor, 
 in his lisping, Italian accent had said that he would 
 have to wait for breakfast until his next allowance 
 came from home; which remark, of course, brought 
 about explanations. 
 
 258
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 Fallen generously divided with his victim ; he 
 even offered to return the entire amount. The 
 young man accepted, as a loan, what he estimated 
 would keep away the pangs of hunger, until he could 
 call upon those at home to pay for the 
 luxury of sending their only son abroad. Two 
 or three times before the next remittance, Fallen 
 hunted up the young man and forced money upon 
 him. This would naturally have warded off 
 suspicion, had the sculptor been that way inclined, 
 which he was not. 
 
 Around the usual haunts Fallon sauntered on that 
 rainy, slippery night in February. He met the young 
 sculptor and they exchanged the usual compliments 
 of the day, mutually expressing their condemnation 
 of the weather. 
 
 "This is the kind of night to stay at home, if 
 one had such a place, " said Fallon. And his thoughts 
 were of his wife, and his regrets were that she knew 
 him and loathed him. 
 
 The young Italian was also inclined to be home 
 sick. He thought of his mother and his 
 only sister, and he rather envied the girl that she 
 did not have to go abroad, in order to avoid serving 
 in the army. He asked Fallon to go around to his 
 rooms with him and they would there have a quiet 
 game of cards. Fallon demurred; the Italian urged, 
 insisted; finally they went away together. 
 
 For a time after beginning the great American 
 game of poker all was well. The sculptor was per 
 sistently losing, but small sums only; there had been, 
 
 259
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 no big hands out. At length Fallon dealt the Italian 
 three aces and two kings. To himself he dealt the 
 eight of clubs, the eight of spades, the eight of hearts 
 and the seven of diamonds ; with one ace. 
 
 Up to this time the deal had been honest enough ; 
 that is, Fallon had not sneaked any cards up his sleeve 
 by the aid of the lizard, and sneaked them down again 
 into his own hand when needed. He had worked " the 
 glass, " on the young man, that was all. It was get 
 ting late, and if he was going to get any money he 
 must do it soon. Fallon supposed his opponent would 
 deem his own hand more than average good, and 
 would consequently "back it." 
 
 Experts in the game of poker must deal charitably 
 with the attempts of an amateur to give detailed ac 
 counts of the booming, bidding-up process of evolu 
 tion, by which a satisfactory climax is reached ; but it 
 may be fair to suppose that most of the men readers 
 of this story already know more than enough upon 
 this subject. And as for the women, it will be better 
 for them if they are ignorant and remain so, extract 
 ing what consolation they may from the assurance of 
 the late Lord Lytton that, " knowledge is grieving." 
 
 But, to return. The Italian thought that he would 
 on this hand, surely get back what he had lost, and 
 relying upon the strength of the cards dealt him, "he 
 raised the ante." Will Fallon "came in," and then, tak 
 ing some cigars out of his pocket, he handed the 
 sculptor one, and proposed a smoke. Fallon 
 did not wish to betray any particular anxiety, and 
 
 260
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 he had to get from his pocket that little 
 thin red diamond, with which to convert his 
 seven spot into an eight. The " Cheat " knew he was 
 not "easy " in this trick, and he would not have dared 
 try it on one less unsuspecting than his present op 
 ponent. The cigars were lit. 
 
 "How many cards?" asked Fallon. 
 
 " Two, " answered the sculptor. 
 
 Fallon dealt the Italian two cards. " I will take 
 but one. " 
 
 Of course Fallon knew the sculptor could not 
 draw an ace, and thus hold four of a kind, for he had 
 the ace himself. But the Italian discarded two cards, 
 so as to increase the chances of drawing another ace. 
 By a strange coincidence he drew two more kings. 
 When we think we are doing the best we can, we 
 sometimes find we could have done better; had he dis 
 carded his three aces he would have had 
 four of a kind. But, of course, nobody 
 would have done that. At any rate, there was this 
 gain he knew that Fallon would not have the four 
 kings. 
 
 As Fallon did not get the eight of diamonds 
 which he wanted, there was nothing left for him to do 
 but to manufacture one. Well, it was practice, and 
 practice was what he needed. Between the puffs of 
 the cigars, the " raising, " " going better, " and all 
 that phraseology peculiar to draw-poker, Fallon stuck 
 the little dummy spot on the seven of diamonds and 
 so had four of a kind. 
 
 261
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 It was his intention to press that little spring 
 on his side, call down the lizard, give it this manu 
 factured eight of diamonds, and send it again into 
 winter quarters up his sleeve, as soon as he should 
 have been " called " and had won the money. 
 
 His intention was all right, but it so fell out that 
 he was not able to execute it. When the Italian had 
 put up his last cent, and " called " Fallen's hand, and 
 thus earned the right to see it, Fallen showed his 
 cards, but held them in his hand. The Italian seeing 
 that he had lost his money, attempted, by one of those 
 involuntary movements which mean nothing, but 
 upon which sometimes so much depends, to take 
 those four eights in his hand. Fallon held them, but 
 seemingly, idly. The Italian insisted, but only with 
 look and gesture. Of course Fallon released the 
 cards. 
 
 In pushing the cards together to take them into 
 his hand, a corner of the pasted-down diamond spot, 
 was roughened up, and the Italian, with the edge of 
 one of the cards, scraped it off entirely. In an instant, 
 the truth flashed upon him. He was being robbed. 
 Fallon laughed a little ; he had no intention of getting 
 into a row or contending for the money. Of course 
 he was caught, and he would give up the stakes. 
 
 Not so the Italian. He was furious. He jumped 
 up from the table and attempted to clutch Fallon by 
 the throat. 
 
 "So you are a cheat, are you?" he screamed; 
 262
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 his hot blood surging into his face, his black eyes blaz 
 ing with anger. 
 
 As the Italian reached out with his right hand 
 for Fallon's throat, the latter threw up his left hand, 
 from which the little " glass " fell with a clink on 
 the marble top of the table. The sight of this tiny 
 mirror increased the Italian's rage. There streamed 
 from his lips a perfect cataract of Italian words which 
 are no doubt interdicted among the refined of his own 
 country. 
 
 The sculptor whipped out his pocket-knife and 
 made the utmost haste to open it. Then he went for 
 Fallon's throat like a madman. Again and again he 
 sank that knife up to the handle into the " Cheat. " 
 Any place, every place, wherever he could strike. If 
 the " Cheat " had been possessed of forty lives, and 
 the Italian could have got them all, he would not 
 have been satisfied, into such a pitch of fury had he 
 worked himself. The struggle, the screams and 
 groans of Fallen brought the other inmates of the 
 house running to the room. 
 
 " There he lies, the thieving dog. He is dead, I 
 hope. " And the sculptor looked at Fallen as if he 
 would like to kill him all over again. " Summon an 
 officer, some of you, I want to give myself up. " Then 
 he sat down and waited until the officer came to arrest 
 him. 
 
 In the morning paper there was a full account 
 of the murder, a diagram of the room, a picture of 
 the two men ; and it was thus that Ola learned of the 
 death of her husband. 
 
 263
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 By the help of that more than brother, Ned St. 
 Claire, Fallen was buried. Ola never saw him after 
 he was dead. The only feeling she had in the mai- 
 ter was one of relief being able " to draw a good 
 breath, " as she told St. Claire. She was free and 
 Fallen was, she felt, better off. 
 
 264
 
 CHAPTER XXV. 
 " There is hope for her. " 
 
 The profound gloom which settled upon Ola after 
 the death of Fallen, perplexed the " Prince " and 
 Ned St. Claire. Mr. York thought her depression 
 due to the spring weather, for it was the end of March, 
 and to over-work. 
 
 But Ned knew not what to think. " Can it be 
 possible," he said to himself, "that she is grieving 
 for that scalawag of a husband?" He resented the 
 idea as absurd, and then came back to it by saying: 
 " But women are so funny ! All their training, from 
 the cradle up, is false. They are taught to try always 
 to get the best of one another, and to deceive every 
 man they meet. As a rule, the man a woman shows 
 the most affection for, is not the one she loves. Ola 
 always manifested loathing for this Fallon, but some 
 thing is killing the poor girl; I wonder what it is?" 
 
 Everybody was kind to her. Nell alone of all 
 her friends, had suspicions along the right line; for 
 Nell had noted the absence of Lieutenant Benners, 
 and Ola's sorrow was balm for Nell's soul. She much 
 preferred to see her friend stretched out on the couch, 
 hour after hour, with her sad grey eyes fastened on 
 one spot, than to note the ecstatic exhilaration which 
 a visit from Lieutenant Benners always produced. 
 
 The " Prince " sent Ola a horse and phaeton, 
 265
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 that she might ride out on every pleasant day, but she 
 did not improve. 
 
 One day St. Claire dropped in to try to cheer 
 her. 
 
 All tokens of her work and study were set aside, 
 neatly folded and packed away. The piano was closed, 
 everything looked orderly. The rooms seemed not 
 at all like Ola's rooms. 
 
 "You don't work any more, do you Ola?" said 
 he. 
 
 " I can't, Ned, I have neither strength nor desire. 
 What a consolation it is to think that even the longest 
 life is short. " The saddened woman gazed at St. 
 Claire, and read the look of sorrowful sympathy which 
 was stamped on his features, She thought: 
 
 " I have known friendships and I have known 
 love. But of all the men who ever crossed my path 
 way in life, this is the only one who never caused me 
 a pang of regret, a feeling of disgust or distrust. How 
 thankful I am for his friendship and sympathy. Every 
 sorrow I have ever known I have taken to him; and 
 he has always encouraged me, bade me look up and be 
 brave. I have imposed everything but this upon him ; 
 this I must bear alone. " 
 
 The travail of her soul was written so plainly on 
 her face, pleaded so mutely, so yearningly from her 
 grey eyes, that Ned was moved to greater sympathy 
 for her than he had ever known. And yet he could 
 not force his lips to speak a word. In all the com 
 munion of their most perfect friendship, he had been, 
 instinctively, so in harmonious accord with her, that 
 
 266
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 he had never been officious in his proffers of service or 
 sympathy. He knew there would come a time when 
 her full heart would overflow, when she must and 
 would let him bear at least a part of her burden. So 
 at this time he did not interrupt her reverie. At 
 length she looked up to him and said: 
 
 " Ned, do you think criminals ever reform ? " 
 
 " Very seldom, " said St. Claire. 
 
 " That is what I thought, " and a long sigh 
 escaped her lips. " It seems to me I have read that 
 some one, somewhere, somehow, has kept a record 
 of criminals, and that once steeped in crime, they 
 seldom reform, " and her lips trembled. 
 
 " Don't you think you would better leave the 
 perusal of such lugubrious literature for a future time, 
 when your own health shall have become restored?" 
 said Ned. 
 
 " I suppose so, " said Ola, " But I have thought 
 much about it of late. " 
 
 Again there was a pause and a silence which 
 St. Claire did not interrupt. 
 
 " The true story, the sad story of a criminal a 
 woman has forced me to estimate the chances for 
 the poor creature, Ned. " 
 
 " Oh, well, there are exceptions to every rule, to 
 say something original, " said St. Claire, who laughed 
 a little. " Because the average criminal does not re 
 turn to ' the straight and narrow, ' that does not say 
 that every person, from first slip to death, marches 
 along on ' the Devil's highway.' " 
 
 " But, Ned," said Ola, and she arose from the 
 267
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 couch upon which she had been languidly lying, and 
 began walking nervously up and down the room, 
 pushing the black curls off her forehead, as if their 
 weight oppressed her, " is it not the part of wisdom 
 to calculate on the probable, instead of the possible? " 
 
 " As a fixed, abstract principle, yes. But as I 
 said before, everything is modified by circumstances. 
 A person may do a thing once, subjected to a certain 
 temptation, and refrain from doing that same thing a 
 second time, though the same allurement be there ; 
 because a new strength to resist has come from a 
 source which, in the first instance, was lacking." 
 
 Ola shook her head sadly, as- if to say: "Your 
 remarks don't fit the case. " Then, as if impelled, or 
 rather compelled, by an unseen force upon which she 
 had not calculated, and which was to lead her, she 
 knew not whither, she said : " I can understand how 
 earnestly a criminal might dssire to reform." 
 
 " There it all lies, Ola. If the desire be strong 
 enough, the reformation will be a success, " said St. 
 Claire. 
 
 "Ah, Ned. In that particular you are mistaken. 
 There are currents, forces, in the universe of 
 psychology which the most virtuous can neither cal 
 culate nor resist. Unhappily, the reformation, like the 
 fall, does not depend upon earnest desire ; but upon 
 circumstances and chance ; and the dread surprises 
 which chance may hold in ambush, must make even 
 the egoist quail." 
 
 How earnestly she spoke ! How her large, grey 
 eyes burned with a desire to be understood, helped. 
 
 268
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 " Ned, there was once a woman who lived for a 
 number of years with a perfect detestation and loath 
 ing of a certain form of sin. She never wished to 
 think of it or hear of it, and she refused, positively, 
 to make it a topic of conversation. She had scant 
 charity for those of her sisters whose garments were 
 ever so faintly stained by the mud of this defilement. 
 But she lived to see her own white soul so draggled 
 through this slough, that not one clean spot re 
 mained. " 
 
 With nervous force she threw the energies of 
 her sorrows into her voice, words, gestures. She 
 walked almost fiercely up and down the room ; and 
 finally, standing beside the table near St. Claire, con 
 tinued, " What right would that woman have to be 
 lieve she could ever be or remain pure again? Even 
 though an ocean of angels' tears should wash the filth 
 from her soul, what guarantee would she have, that, of 
 her own volition, she would not return again to the 
 wallow?" ; 
 
 " As I said before, she would have the warrant 
 of her own earnest desires, " said St. Claire. 
 
 " You don't understand. Let me try to make 
 you. If one were surrounded by every possible temp 
 tation to sin, every imaginable, congenital inclination ; 
 if the occupation were congenial, then one might be 
 charitable. But this woman had no such excuse. She 
 was adored by a good man who showered her with 
 every token of his love. You will scarce believe it, 
 but she loved him. Their communion could not have 
 been purer, had neither of them known sex or pas- 
 
 269
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 sion. His confidence in her was as beautiful as it 
 was unmerited. When he spoke to her of marriage, 
 he said, ' I live for you ; I want the efforts of my life 
 to bless you, and I do not wish any of my business 
 associates to have a thought to mar your purity. If 
 I knew a man had wronged you, he should only live 
 until I could load a pistol.' " 
 
 She paused a moment to gather strength; but St. 
 Claire could not speak. Then, with hysterical chok- 
 ings she went on: 
 
 " And Ned, at the very hour in which this good 
 man spoke these words, as well as through all the 
 years in which she had been the recipient of his 
 princely bounty, the man he trusted most of all, the 
 man he loved as a brother, held this woman in a 
 magic spell, from which she could no more break away 
 than she can escape from Death, when he comes from 
 his ' Abode of Shade, ' to claim her. She went on 
 sinning, from first to last " 
 
 " Then there was an end of the sin?" said Ned. 
 
 " Yes, there was an end. But what do you fancy 
 brought this shameful relationship to a conclusion? 
 Growth in virtue on the woman's part?" She shook 
 her head sadly. " No, simply a new form of sin. It 
 was jealousy. Her own acts, in every line, feature and 
 form, materialized into a Nemesis to slay her happi 
 ness at one blow. Her best friend if there be such a 
 thing as friendship between women at any rate, a 
 woman she had loved for years Ah, well, you 
 know " 
 
 She threw up her hands with an impatient gesture 
 270
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 and walked away from St. Claire. Finally, returning 
 to him she said : " It would be an unpardonable 
 crime against good judgment for that woman to hope ; 
 for how shall we estimate the future, except by the 
 past? There is but one thing for her to do, and that 
 is to make a full confession to this man who has loved 
 her with a purity unsurpassed by anything the world 
 has ever known ; break his heart, wreck his whole life, 
 then blow out her own brains and be carted off to 
 Potter's Field. Perhaps some day she may make good 
 phosphates; at least it is to be hoped she will, for 
 she was never good for anything else." 
 
 Oh, how acrimoniously she spoke. 
 
 " No, there is no hope for her. I have told her 
 so." 
 
 Of this agony of soul, every intonation of her 
 voice, every movement of her lips, every gesture of 
 her body bore witness. 
 
 " You should have told her to appeal to the man 
 hood of her lover; she should have shown him the 
 great wrong he was doing her ; she should have urged 
 him to pass out of her life " 
 
 " Ned, you have little conception of the earnest 
 desire this poor soul had to respect herself, if you 
 fancy for one moment that anything of that kind was 
 neglected. No, no, no ! A thousand times, no ! She 
 told him all; she urged him to go away and leave her; 
 she told him she would never marry except upon his 
 most solemn promise not to attempt to see her again. 
 And thus through the years, she refused respectabil- 
 
 271
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 ity, refused a home of wealth, outraged the love of a 
 good man, and for what? " 
 
 It seemed as though she could not say the words 
 which were so humiliating to her pride. But she must. 
 In full confession alone could she get either comfort 
 or reliable advice. Chokingly the words came from 
 her: 
 
 " All this sacrifice for a man who was simply 
 making a convenience of her. She had not even the 
 excuse of ignorance here for he had betrayed him 
 self in their early acquaintance. No, there is no hope 
 for this woman. 
 
 " She is as much a slave to a peculiar influence 
 her lover has over her, as his own false tongue is to the 
 soft words of seduction commanded by his brain. No, 
 there is no hope for her and I have told her so. " 
 And Ola went back to the couch and leaned her 
 tired head down upon the arm of it. Relaxed was 
 every muscle; she had abandoned her entire being 
 to the melancholy of despair. 
 
 "Do you think she would ever have married?"' 
 said Ned. 
 
 "While under the dominion of her lover?" Ola 
 interrogated. 
 
 "Yes," said Ned. 
 
 " Never, " said Ola with prompt and positive em 
 phasis. " She was indeed low, but not quite as bad 
 as that " 
 
 " Then, my dear girl, you must change the advice 
 272
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 you have given the poor creature. There is hope for 
 her. Tell her to marry the good man who loves her, 
 tell her to bury forever from her mind all thought of 
 her past. This woman had honor enough not to wed 
 while she knew she was a vassal to her lover's power; 
 that same honor, when once she is married, will keep 
 her pure. " 
 
 "Oh, Ned, do you really think that?" said Ola 
 and she raised her head from the arm of the couch and 
 looked at him as if more than Heaven depended upon 
 his verdict. 
 
 " I know it, " said St. Claire. 
 
 At this moment Lucy brought in a letter and 
 gave it to Ola, who said to St. Claire, " Have I your 
 permission? " 
 
 " Certainly, " said he. 
 
 She tore open the envelope. It was a few lines 
 from the " Prince, " saying he would come up that 
 afternoon and take her to see some property he was 
 thinking of buying. She handed the note to St. 
 Claire. 
 
 " Just the right thing at the right time. Go, my 
 dear girl. April is sending on a few of her smiles 
 in advance. It is a really warm day for March. Go, 
 it will do you a world of good. " 
 
 She did go, and she returned looking much bet 
 ter. The " Prince " thought, to his dying day, that 
 it was the ride which had benefited her. The ride did 
 her no harm; but the cordial which renewed her 
 
 273
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 strength was the words of encouragement Ned St. 
 Claire had spoken to her. 
 
 And St. Claire, who had strengthened Ola, had 
 no one to minister to him. He had many times told 
 her she was just as human as all the rest of the 
 world of flesh, if the right man were to come along. 
 With that inconsistency which is part and parcel of 
 our humanity, he had sunned himself in the delusion 
 that she was not as humanly frail as other women ; 
 he .believed she would withstand any temptation ; 
 that she could pass through all sorts of mud and 
 none of it would stick to her. 
 
 Now was his time to suffer. He had understood 
 her; the most obtuse could not have failed to pene 
 trate the gauzy film of hypothesis with which she had 
 related the story of her criminal. 
 
 Ah, ye sons of Adam ! As the cruel hand of 
 Time demolishes your idols, is it any wonder that 
 your faith dies? 
 
 In after years, when Ned St. Claire saw Ola 
 happy, married, and felt that but for his words to 
 her she never would have raised her head again, he 
 was glad she had loved him well enough to bring her 
 burdens to him. But she dealt his faith in woman 
 hood such a blow that he never recovered. She had 
 been his ideal of all that is pure and good and 
 beautiful. 
 
 How little we relish the taste of our own pessi 
 mistic sauce, when cruelly served with our own 
 cherished hopes and dreams. There were no tears 
 in his heart when he said to her, " But my girl, you 
 
 274
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 are just as human as all the rest of the world, if the 
 right man comes along. " How different, oh, how 
 very different were his sensations when he found that 
 she was " human " " just as human as all the rest 
 of the world. " 
 
 Be not deceived, ye who dream of beauty, purity, 
 perfection; that trinity inhabits not this earth. 
 
 275
 
 CHAPTER XXVI. 
 
 " She's mine ; every little bit of her. I persevered and 
 I got her." 
 
 The " Prince " was the most sanguine of all 
 sanguine temperaments. He always had faith in 
 the successful termination of any enterprise he took 
 in hand. When he first asked Ola to marry him and 
 she refused, he decided, in his own mind, he " would 
 humor her in all her little whims, " and eventually 
 she would marry him. He never for a moment ad 
 mitted to himself that the affair could terminate in 
 any other way. Through all the years of her strug 
 gles, he had given her every possible token of sym 
 pathy and encouragement. There were two things 
 only, in his life : Ola and money. 
 
 Before he consecrated himself to her, he had 
 cared nothing for money; but now he was rolling It 
 up as fast as possible. Now that she was ill and 
 discouraged, and seemed determined to die, simply 
 because she was tired of living, the same hopeful view 
 which he always took of everything, sustained him. 
 
 He was kind, attentive, thoughtful. He watched 
 her carefully, noted the result of every experiment 
 he tried. After that ride she was better. All right, 
 she should have one every pleasant day. He wouid 
 attend to that himself. Wall Street would not sink 
 out of sight; it would still be there with all its op- 
 
 276
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 portunities for making money, after his little darling 
 should have been restored to health. He would 
 tackle Wall Street once more, with all the greater 
 vim on account of the vacation he had imposed on 
 himself. 
 
 He pressed her gently, day after day, to marry 
 him, and " let him love her back to life. " But she 
 always refused. 
 
 One evening as he sat beside her on the couch, 
 urging, as usual, his cause, she shook her head and 
 said : " It would be very wrong for me to marry you. 
 My hope is gone, my courage is gone, my faith in 
 myself is gone. What have I to give you? Nothing 
 but a corpse. " 
 
 " I'll take it, " said the " Prince " eagerly. In the 
 old speculating days he had never jumped so quickly 
 to " cover his shorts, " as he now sprang after the 
 faint hope offered in the fact that Ola's words were 
 not a positive refusal. 
 
 She laughed a little; she could not help it. But 
 soon coming back to a realization of her unworthi- 
 ness, she said, " I hope I have not much longer to 
 live. I love you so holily that I would like to do 
 something to make you happy. Because of the nature 
 of my sentients towards you, I cannot marry you. I 
 know you so well, and venerate you so much, that I 
 think few women are worthy of the love you give 
 me. I certainly am not. Be sure my knowledge that 
 I am not worthy of you is what makes me refuse. " 
 
 The " Prince " leaned over her and kissed her 
 cheek lightly, saying, " Sweet, innocent angel, how 
 
 277
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 little your pure soul knows of that world in which 
 men live. The unworthiness is the other way. 
 Haven't I seen you and watched you almost daily for 
 nearly five years? Don't the same friends love you 
 and honor you now, who loved you and honored you 
 when I first met you? I am not a very rich man yet, 
 ' Baby, ' but I shall be. You don't run much to ex 
 travagances; I think I can supply what you want in 
 the way of money. " 
 
 " As far as money is concerned, I neither know 
 nor care whether you are worth ten cents or ten mil 
 lions. If I thought your happiness safe in my hands 
 I would marry you, " said Ola. 
 
 " I am satisfied, darling, perfectly satisfied. 
 Won't you let me take the chance on that? Let us 
 be married, and let me take you to Italy; there you 
 can see all the best there is in art, and in that climate 
 you will get well. " 
 
 The " Prince " held her hands in his and looked 
 at her, his blue eyes full of love. 
 
 At that moment Nell sauntered into the parlor. 
 Nell was never the least in the " Prince's " way in 
 his love-making. She was his friend and ally, and he 
 knew it and was grateful to her for it. Extending a 
 hand to her he exclaimed, " Come here, little one, 
 and help me plead my cause ! " Then he told Nell 
 what he had been saying to Ola. 
 
 The girl sat down sidewise on the couch by Ola, 
 and said, " Why not make all your friends happy, 
 dear?" 
 
 " Oh, Nell ! Nell ! can it be possible that you urge 
 278
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 me to marry Mr. York? Look at me! What a wreck 
 I am! Would it be right? Tell me, would it be 
 right? Would it be safe?" 
 
 " I think it would, dear. Think of how long and 
 how much he has loved you. " 
 
 " Yes, darling, it isn't in the books to fill my 
 place with you ; for I love you as no man ever loved a 
 woman. Without you, my life will be nothing. 
 With you, darling, it will be Heaven, " said the 
 " Prince. " 
 
 "But what if I could not make you happy?" 
 said Ola. 
 
 " But you can, ' Baby, ' " said he. 
 
 " Certainly you can, and you will, dear. Be good 
 and brave and try to get well. Try to love those who 
 love you, " said Nell. 
 
 Ola was silent. " Nell and Ned St. Claire had 
 both given her courage. Would she be safe if ever 
 Lieutenant Benners were to cross her path again? 
 Could she trust her husband's honor to the chance 
 of that mysterious power the Lieutenant exercised 
 upon her? " 
 
 The " Prince " looked at her and Nell looked at 
 her. The eyes of the one said : " Let me love you 
 back to life? " The eyes of the other said: " Courage, 
 Ola, courage. " 
 
 She thought, " I have but to knock at Death's 
 door, and it will open to me. If the Fates leave me 
 free one month or one year, should I not give that 
 time to him? Faith in my own strength to resist the 
 subtle power Lieutenant Benners has over my will, 
 
 279
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 I have none; but my husband's honor shall never be 
 sullied while any avenue into Death's realm remains 
 open. " 
 
 Then she arose and went to the window. Throw 
 ing open the blinds she looked at the stars. Thus 
 she stood for a few moments, which, to the " Prince " 
 seemed a few eternities. Mr. York would have gone to 
 her, but Nell restrained him with a touch of her hand. 
 The two women had been together for so many years 
 that Nell was familiar with every phase of her friend's 
 soarings out of the real world; and she knew that 
 nothing could bring Ola so near the " Prince " as to 
 asborb that comfort which came softly down on those 
 rays of starlight. 
 
 With one hand on the open blind, and the other 
 resting on the casement, Ola looked up at the stars, 
 until an expression of sweet comfort settled upon 
 her features. When she turned around she met the 
 earnest eyes of Nell and the " Prince. " Placing one 
 hand on Nell's shoulder and the other in that of the 
 " Prince, " she said, softly, " I will try. " 
 
 "Do you mean it? "said the "Prince," and his 
 blue eyes danced with joy. 
 
 " Yes, " said Ola. 
 
 "You won't back out?" 
 
 " No, " she said, smiling a little at his earnest 
 ness. 
 
 " Oh, you little darling ! You angel ! I'm the 
 happiest man in all this big world. " 
 
 Then he sat on the couch, with one arm 
 around Ola and the other around Nell, and talked 
 
 280
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 of his prospects and intentions. He would buy the 
 house at which he and Ola had looked, that is, if 
 it suited her. He would buy it in her name, that in 
 case anything should happen to him before they were 
 married, his pious relatives could not take it from 
 her. 
 
 There were two things about the " Prince " 
 which always set Nell off into " spe-asms " as she 
 expressed it: his love-making, and his descriptions 
 of trades with old Jake Israel. She now exclaimed 
 merrily, " Everything is for Ola ! " 
 
 " Oh, yes, " he said ; "everything I make shall be 
 hers as fast as I make it. " 
 
 " I shouldn't be a bit surprised to hear you say 
 to Ola some morning after you are married, ' "Baby," 
 got a quarter? I think old Jake Israel will take those 
 defaulted securities to-day, then I'll pay you back 
 to-night, ' " said Nell, and all three of them laughed. 
 
 " Old Jake and I have been awful busy working 
 up a million and a half of commercial paper, for banks 
 to put in their dead boxes " 
 
 " Their dead boxes ! " screamed Nell, " for 
 Heaven's sake do banks keep corpses in their vaults? " 
 
 "Yes," said the "Prince" laughing. "Yes, 
 and very convenient corpses they are, to resurrect 
 in case of emergencies, such as the visit of the in 
 spector. " 
 
 " No, " said Nell, " but tell me seriously, what is 
 a dead box? I feel worried about my bank account. " 
 
 " A good many people would, if they knew the 
 inside workings of banks. I will try to make you 
 
 281
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 understand what a dead box is. It is a common thing 
 with some banks to borrow stocks, bonds and well- 
 rated commercial paper, paying for the same from 
 one to five per cent., for four or six months, about 
 the time they are making up their yearly statement. 
 It is very convenient stuff to have on hand. The 
 better the showing at such a time, the more the 
 stock of the bank is worth, and the better their credit. 
 The bank locks these stocks and bonds and commer 
 cial paper up in a little box which they call their dead 
 box. The contents of this dead box is also very use 
 ful in covering up losses and bad investments. Hired 
 capital answering the purpose of actual possessions. 
 
 " Banks, as well as people, travel as fast on what 
 they seem to have as they would if they actually had 
 it. In other words, when commercial paper has gone 
 to protest, and becomes worthless, it goes into the 
 dead box; and it is a common practice to borrow live 
 paper to take its place. 
 
 " Banks are compelled, by law, to charge up un 
 paid paper to the loss account, within six months 
 after it has been protested. Old Jake supplies his 
 customers with borrowed paper. In fact, old Jake 
 has a market for almost everything. So, ' Baby ; 
 when you lend me a quarter, upon the strength of a 
 trade with old Jake, I probably will be able to pay 
 it back within a day or two, " said he, laughing, as he 
 patted Ola on the cheek. 
 
 " I suppose I shall have to ' back ' you when you 
 go 'short,' " said Ola, "we should be ruined surely if 
 
 282
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 I should let you get into the hands of the old mis 
 sionary again. " 
 
 The next day the " Prince " wrote a few lines to 
 his friend, Lieutenant Benners, saying how happy 
 he was, in spite of Ola's poor health, since she had 
 promised to marry him in June. They would spend 
 the summer in Europe, he said. He asked the Lieu 
 tenant's congratulations, and assured him of his sin 
 cere friendship, and the pleasure it would give him 
 to welcome the Lieutenant to their home, after they 
 should have returned to New York. 
 
 The Lieutenant wrote a graceful and gentlemanly 
 letter of congratulation, which satisfied, even pleased, 
 the "Prince." 
 
 Ola begged Nell to attend to everything, saying 
 she was too ill. To this Nell agreed, for she had de 
 cided that as she and Jack would probably never be 
 able to see their way any clearer, they might as well 
 get married too. The " Prince " convinced Jack that 
 it would be impossible for him to give Ola such 
 escort as she needed, since he would have so much 
 business to attend to, and thus persuaded Jack " to 
 go with them to escort the women, while he himself 
 was interviewing European bankers. And Nell must 
 go to keep Ola company." 
 
 How busy Nell and the " Prince " were, in 
 getting that house furnished ! When the friends were 
 together in the evening, Nell complained, in seeming 
 bitterness, to Ola, " Just think of how I must suffer ! 
 I haven't been allowed to go into a forty-nine cent 
 store while I have been furnishing the house. " 
 
 283
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 " Never mind, " said Jack, " after we come back 
 from over seas, and you furnish up for us, it will be 
 all forty-nine cents. " 
 
 " How I shall revel in those pennies saved, '' 
 said Nell. 
 
 At last and it was only a few weeks before they 
 were to be married "there was enough in the house 
 to start on, " the " Prince " said ; and he and Ola, 
 with Nell and Jack, went to look at it. Everything 
 was beautiful; everything showed Nell's artistic 
 touch and the " Prince's " disregard of cost. 
 
 When they reached the rooms reserved for Ola's 
 personal use, the " Prince " said, " The house and 
 everything in it is yours, darling; but in these three 
 rooms we have tried especially to remember your 
 tastes, and conform to them. In here you can with 
 draw, even from your husband. I do not want you to 
 think I gain any rights by putting a wedding ring on 
 your finger, save and except only, the right to protect 
 you, without fear of any tarnishing suspicion from 
 anybody." 
 
 " Always the same, " thought Ola. " The man 
 never swerves a hair's breadth from true nobility of 
 soul, where I am concerned. If I only could feel that 
 he is a little human. " 
 
 Then they went into his room. The first things 
 that met Ola's eyes were the pictures she had painted 
 for the exhibition. She recalled the afternoon in Will 
 Fallon's room. The tears came to her grey eyes ; 
 she leaned her head on the " Prince's " shoulder and 
 cried, "Oh, Harold! Harold!" 
 
 284
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 They were all the words she could utter, and he 
 did not understand even those; but he thought he 
 did. He kissed her and softly said, " Do you think, 
 ' Baby,' that I could bear to have anybody else 
 own those pictures into which I had seen you day 
 by day painting your own little life and soul? Oh, 
 no ! They had to be mine, at any cost ; and I tell you 
 I just did have to pay for them ; those art dealers ran 
 'em up pretty lively. " 
 
 Ola's heart was too full for her lips to speak a 
 word. 
 
 The pictures were a genuine surprise to Nell, too, 
 as neither she nor Jack had ever suspected anything 
 of the kind. But Ola now knew that the " Prince ' 
 had got up a " corner " on the Ola Del pictures, with 
 the intent of " bulling the market," not having to 
 fear that any one in the pool would unload on the 
 others, since "corner, " pool, deal and all, were his 
 and his alone. All the rest were board-room clacquers, 
 hired to make a " bull " market. 
 
 But all these things impressed Ola more and more 
 with a sense of her own unworthiness. 
 
 " In your own rooms, Ola, we tried to remember 
 your passion for dreaming," said Nell, " You can 
 stretch out here and there and everywhere, and dream 
 and dream and dream. " 
 
 " You are all so good and kind. " Then she put 
 her hands on the " Prince's " shoulders, and looking 
 into his blue eyes she said, " If you are willing, dear, 
 we will give Nell and Jack the flat. " 
 
 285
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 " Oh, you little angel ! That's just what I wanted 
 you to say, " said the " Prince. " 
 
 " Just my luck ! " said Nell. " Now I won't get a 
 chance at any of those forty-nine-cent stores after 
 all. " 
 
 But she went up to Ola and kissed her; and if 
 there were not tears in Nell's eyes, at least there was 
 an exceedingly suspicious moisture. 
 
 That evening the " Prince " was looking over 
 the list of those to whom wedding cards had been 
 sent. Said he to Nell, " Little one, I don't see Lieu 
 tenant Benners' name here. " 
 
 Nell scanned the list and then most innocently 
 said : " Dat am so ! Nur His Umptiousity, nuther, 
 How could I ever forget His Umptiousity?" And 
 Lieutenant Benners and Captain Calhoun were added 
 there and then. 
 
 " Ola," said Nell, " Do you know where Mi. 
 Cameron is?" 
 
 " No, " said Ola. 
 
 " Do you think cards sent in care of the ' Grant, ' 
 would reach him?" 
 
 "Most likely," said Ola. 
 
 " Then, Mr. Cameron, down goes your name," 
 said Nell. 
 
 In a foreign port Mr. Cameron received those 
 wedding cards. He sighed a little romantic sigh, and 
 whistled " Widow Jinkins' Daughter, some other 
 fellow's got her, " as he paced the deck of his ship, 
 keeping the " wind watch " or doing some other of 
 
 286
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 those high, mighty and important duties which bring 
 naval officers to early graves. 
 
 In June the four were married and sailed to 
 Europe. Nell took her marriage as she did almost 
 everything else, in an exceedingly matter-of-fact 
 way ; .but the " Prince " was happy in the fullest 
 sense of the word. After the ceremony, he took Ola 
 in his arms, saying, " She's mine. Every little bit of 
 her. I persevered and I got her. " 
 
 When they returned to New York in the Fall, 
 they went to their own home ; and gradually Ola 
 drew around her a host of admiring friends. How 
 proud and happy her husband was, his own bright 
 face was sponsor for. 
 
 Back again to his office in Wall Street he went, 
 eager for the fray. More money for Ola. She 
 should be one of the rich women of New York. Rich 
 in money, as he was in her; that was his boast, that 
 his aim, 
 
 Ola stepped in upon her husband by surprise one 
 day when he was talking finance to some man, and 
 the thought passed through her mind, " Could I 
 paint the keen look on that face when he is talking 
 finance, and then the expression which passed into 
 the same features when he looked up and saw me 
 just now, and name the picture ' Love/ and ' Busi 
 ness,' my fame would be world-wide." 
 
 287
 
 CHAPTER XXVII. 
 The Sting Ray. 
 
 But turn .back a little, to take up some of 
 the other threads of the story that were spinning 
 themselves out while the " happy pairs " were travel 
 ing in Europe and the " Prince " was trying with all 
 his might and main " to love Ola back to life. " 
 
 The flat, which would in future be the home of 
 Nell and Jack, had a sorrowful, deserted look. The 
 knick-knacks were packed away, and everything seem 
 ed to cry out, " We are lonesome ! Come back ! Ola, 
 come back ! " 
 
 Ned St. Claire had promised Nell to sleep there, 
 and the janitor of the building, who lived in the 
 basement, was to have a watchful eye on the things 
 during the daytime. But it was a disconsolate 
 enough place for Ned. What a comfort the sympathy 
 he had given Ola had been to him, Ned himself 
 scarcely dreamed, until, like Othello, his occupation 
 was gone. The poor, lonesome fellow could not come 
 into the flat at night until he was well tired out and 
 disposed to sleep without rocking. 
 
 The " Prince " had left their new house ; n 
 charge of a reliable old housekeeper who had come to 
 him well recommended; so those who were abroad 
 had no worry concerning the home-end of the line. 
 
 And Lieutenant Benners? Well, he just went 
 288
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 along enjoying himself, wherever and with whomso 
 ever the Fates threw him. He missed Ola, but what 
 of that? He was not going to carry a face around 
 with him as long as the moral law, just because one 
 woman was unreasonable, even if she was neat and 
 dainty even if she was "just the sweetest girl that 
 ever was." But, oh! how he missed her! Her very 
 faults and her unreasonableness formed a basis of 
 regret. 
 
 So, while he went along enjoying himself where- 
 ever and with whomsoever the Fates threw him, Ben- 
 ners often found himself drawing comparisons be 
 tween Ola and other women, and almost invariably to 
 the disadvantage of those others. 
 
 It was the last week in July, and the weather 
 was awfully hot. " Bronze " and the Lieutenant 
 were sitting on the beach at Coney Island, and their 
 wet bathing suits (for they had been in swimming) 
 clung to their figures as they reclined on the sand. 
 It was one of those days when there was a land 
 breeze. The waves rolled up and broke and went 
 back, in a listless, indifferent sort of way, as if they 
 were tired of this monotonous work, at which they 
 had toiled without reward or hope of reward, for 
 so many ages. 
 
 The sun's rays beat down on the wet suits of 
 " Bronze " and the Lieutenant and generated a hot 
 steam-like vapor which mingled with the oppressive 
 air. The Lieutenant dug his toes into the sand, his 
 eyes wandering the while over the revelations made 
 by " Bronze's " wet bathing suit. " She is too fat," he 
 
 289
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 reflected, " I don't like those large women ; they so 
 soon assume a matronly walk. Her eyes are big and 
 oxy-looking, but they have no expression about 
 them. " 
 
 He thought of the many times he had laughed 
 at Ola and called her silly, because she would not 
 go swimming with him, and how she had met his 
 ridicule by saying, " I know I am silly. I know bet 
 ter women than I am do go, but I cannot. I can 
 swim well and often go; but only to those places re 
 served for women. " 
 
 He thought of all her modesty, and how, even 
 after their intimacy had continued for a number of 
 years, he had said, " You act just as distant and shy 
 with me now as you did when at the first. " And 
 how she had replied, " I really cannot help it, it Is 
 my nature. " 
 
 Even at this moment it was a pleasure for him 
 to remember that Ola had never sat in a wet bath 
 ing suit on the sands, where every passing man might 
 comment upon her shapely limbs and beautiful arms. 
 She had been circumspect, distant, almost cold to him 
 in the presence of others. And now, sitting on the 
 wet sands beside the voluptuous " Bronze," he had no 
 relish for the feast. He almost sighed as he thought 
 of the times he and Ola had walked along the paths 
 at the sea shore, as properly and pokily as two old 
 Quakers. He almost sighed, and thought, " She 
 was the only one I ever knew. There never was and 
 never will be another like her. " 
 
 290
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 " Let's go in again, " said " Bronze. " It's 
 awfully hot here. " 
 
 "All right. We'll take a brisk swim out into 
 deep water, and then back. After that we'll come 
 out and dress and go to dinner. " 
 
 They waded in until the water was about breast 
 high, when both struck out for deep water. " Bronze " 
 was an excellent swimmer and perfectly fearless; so 
 was the Lieutenant. They laughed and sported with 
 the mighty ocean, enjoying the feeling that they were 
 masters of this monster that had devoured so any 
 of the sons of men. 
 
 " Oh, " said the Lieutenant, and he gave a groan 
 of pain. 
 
 "What's the matter?" said "Bronze." 
 
 " I've got a cramp, and I need help. What shall 
 we do? We are so far out. " he exclaimed. 
 
 " Don't get excited. Just rest the tips of your 
 fingers on my shoulder and I will tug you into shore. 
 You know we have done this often, only don't get 
 nervous. " 
 
 Recognizing the value of this suggestion, the 
 Lieutenant lightly caught hold of " Bronze's " bath 
 ing-suit, at the shoulder, and cried, " Strike out for 
 shore, my girl, for I can't stand it many moments." 
 
 " Bronze's " vigorous health and her perfect 
 familiarity with the water stood her in good stead 
 now. She made long, telling strokes, between which 
 she told the Lieutenant not to feel frightened, as she 
 was going to shout for help, fearing that her own 
 ^strength would fail her. " Bronze " was not afraid 
 
 291
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 of her own strength giving out, but she was afraid 
 that the Lieutenant, if in great agony by cramps, 
 might lose his presence of mind and clutch her so 
 that both of them would go to the bottom. Therefore 
 at intervals she shouted loudly for help, though she 
 did not relax her own efforts to reach the shore. 
 
 One of the life-savers and another man came to 
 her assistance. They got the Lieutenant on the sand, 
 and, learning that the cramp was in his right leg, 
 gained his consent to give it a good pull that the 
 cramp might come out. 
 
 Benners groaned pitifully, his beautiful face 
 blanched to death's own pallor; instantly cold drops, 
 which told their own unmistakable tale of his agony, 
 stood on his brow, and he fainted. Then there was 
 much rushing around for restoratives in the midst of 
 which " Bronze " quietly said, " You attend to him ; 
 I will go to my room and dress myself. " 
 
 This was the most sensible thing she could have 
 done; but after the Lieutenant had regained con 
 sciousness and asked for her and was told she had 
 gone to dress, even his agony, which was indeed great, 
 did not prevent him from thinking, " I could never 
 have induced Ola to put on a bathing-suit and go in 
 swimming with me, but I am sure, had she been 
 cast up on this beach as nude as the day she was born, 
 she would not have gone away to make a toilet, when 
 she could not know but any of the faint pulsations of 
 my heart might be the last. " 
 
 They wiped the perspiration from his face. Was 
 there a tear with it? If so, forgive him; he was far 
 
 292
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 from home from that angelic mother and those two 
 pure sisters. 
 
 The friends which accident makes of the veriest 
 strangers, helped him to dress. At least they dressed 
 him as best they could; for his leg had already be 
 gun to swell at an alarming rate. The Lieutenant re 
 quested those about him to procure a carriage and 
 take him to the New York boat. One of the 
 gentlemen who had been active and useful at the 
 moment of Lieutenant Benners' fainting, proffered 
 his escort and services until such time as the sufferer 
 should be safe in better hands ; which offer was gladly 
 accepted by the invalid. 
 
 " Bronze, " who had made a careful toilet, was 
 glad to see the Lieutenant conscious again. She got 
 into the carriage which was to convey them to the 
 New York boat, and did not scruple to try to impress 
 the stranger with the belief that she was a charming 
 young woman ; but the Lieutenant was in too great 
 agony to care what she did. He was deathly sick 
 at the stomach, his foot and leg were constantly in 
 creasing in size, and the pains in them caused repeated 
 groans to escape his unwilling lips. 
 
 Just as the boat was about to touch her pier, she 
 collided with a tug. There was a bump and a crash. 
 Most of the passengers ran screaming about, and 
 when the landing was made they scrambled ashore as 
 quickly as possible, under the impression that the 
 boat would surely fill and go down to the bottom. But 
 the Lieutenant did not stir; he could not, he was too 
 
 293
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 mortally sick, for death, in any form, to have terrors 
 for him. On the contrary, anything, even death, 
 which would have put an end to his sufferings, would 
 have been welcome. 
 
 At his own request, they summoned a carriage 
 and he was driven to a hospital. From there the 
 Lieutenant sent " Bronze " home in that same car 
 riage. Even in all the pain he suffered, he was not 
 forgetful of the obligations of a gentleman; he 
 thanked " Bronze " for the pleasure of her company, 
 expressed his regret that her happiness had been 
 marred by the accident, and apologized for sending 
 her home alone. The best blood of the F. F. Vs. 
 was not in his veins for naught, and no agony that 
 left him consciousness could make him forget the 
 obligations he owed it. 
 
 At the hospital they cut off his clothes. His 
 right limb was beet-red and swollen to twice its 
 normal size, the swelling extending from the toes, 
 clear up the leg, around the groins and over the kid 
 neys. A fever flush had now removed the pallor from 
 his lips and put an alarming brightness in his eyes. 
 The physicians made a minute examination of the 
 patient. On the right knee they discovered a number 
 of small red marks, of even a deeper red than the 
 surrounding parts. These marks were very small 
 indeed, and looked as if they might have been made 
 by a sharp-pointed instrument, perhaps grooved, and 
 as if in this way the coloring matter, evidently so 
 virulent, had been introduced under the skin and 
 into the blood. 
 
 394
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 To their questions the Lieutenant could tell them 
 nothing except that he had been swimming in deep 
 water at Coney .Island; that he had suddenly been 
 seized with a sharp, stinging pain, starting from the 
 knee and extending both up and down the leg; that 
 he had supposed this pain was the cramp to which 
 swimmers are subject at times. 
 
 The doctors eased his agony as best they could, 
 and treated him for blood-poisoning. The limb was 
 swollen to an enormous size and was such a peculiar 
 beet-red, that the physicians at the hospital, at the 
 Lieutenant's request, called into consultation one of 
 New York City's most celebrated specialists. Then 
 came another most scrutinizing examination, the 
 " Benners' Case " having awakened the greatest 
 interest. 
 
 This last physician prescribed an ointment with 
 which the entire limb was anointed. In four or five 
 different places blisters formed; these blisters varied 
 in size from a silver dollar to a twenty-five cent piece. 
 They broke and discharged, seemingly, only the 
 ordinary water which comes from any blister. After 
 that the swelling gradually subsided and the fever 
 went down. But the Lieutenant had suffered so many 
 weeks of an agony which was almost beyond the 
 power of human endurance, that when the pain left 
 him, he lay like an exhausted babe, with scarce the 
 breath of life in him. 
 
 In those trying days of extreme weakness, the 
 beauty of Lieutenant Benners' disposition shone forth 
 
 295
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 in all its glory ; and he won the hearts of every human 
 being in the hospital, high or low, whom duty called 
 near him. Often he was lonely, and over his mind 
 floated the memory of past happy days. He thought 
 of the time when he was afraid he had contracted 
 smallpox or some other loathsome malady, from 
 that old Polish Jew, and had asked Ola if he should 
 fall ill and be obliged to go to the hospital, whether 
 she would come to see him. He recalled how 
 promptly she had told him she would go to any place 
 where she could serve him. 
 
 " The dear girl ! I shall never know another like 
 her. I hope she is happy, " said the sick man to him 
 self. 
 
 " Bronze " had never been to see him. She had 
 written occasionally from the different watering- 
 places where she was flitting away those days of 
 summer. " She didn't care to compromise herself by 
 hanging around a hospital, and, besides, the summer 
 was so short, and there were so many places to go, 
 so many new faces to see. The Lieutenant was 
 pleasant enough; but, at the best, the limit of his 
 salary was small. She had no notion of making her 
 self a sister of the Order of St. Genevive, to be cooped 
 up in a New York hospital in dog days, for him, or 
 anybody else. Oh, no! She could do better than 
 that. " 
 
 After the severity of his illness was over, and 
 Lieutenant Benners first saw the reflection of his 
 features in a mirror, he scarce knew himself. He was 
 wasted to the merest skeleton; traces of the suffer- 
 
 296
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 ings through which he had passed were stamped for 
 life upon his once handsome face. There was a set 
 tled look of sorrow and resignation in the eyes and 
 around the mouth. He had almost lost the use of 
 his right leg; his walking, done with the aid of a stout 
 cane, was slow, labored, painful. When he left the 
 hospital he went to see a specialist. 
 
 The Lieutenant decided not to give this man any 
 particulars, but to let the great scientist determine 
 for himself, what was the trouble; so he simply 
 said : " Doctor, I have a distressing malady, I wish 
 you to tell me what it is, and to relieve me if you 
 can. " 
 
 " All right ! " said the doctor, " Strip off and let 
 me see you walk. " 
 
 The Lieutenant did as he was told, and the doctor 
 watched, evidently with the keenest interest and the 
 most profound perplexity, his patient's slow and pain 
 ful marchings up and down the room. At length 
 the doctor said, " Sit down and rest a few moments." 
 Then after a pause, " Do you know I don't know 
 what is the matter with you? " 
 
 The Lieutenant smiled a sad ghost of a smile, but 
 said nothing. The doctor continued, " Tell me how 
 it came about. " 
 
 The Lieutenant recounted the story. 
 
 " That settles it, " said the doctor. " My dear 
 fellow, put on your clothes, I can do nothing for you. 
 No man living can do anything. It is a wonder thai 
 you are alive; you can thank your excellent constitu- 
 
 297
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 tion, and not medical skill for it. Few indeed have 
 passed through what you have and escaped with life. 
 
 " The sudden, stinging pain you felt in the 
 knee, the great swelling, the beet-red color which the 
 limb assumed, were caused by a wound from the ser 
 rated spine of the tail of a fish called the Sting Ray. 
 Those found in the British seas are sometimes called 
 Fire Flares. Their flesh is as red as you say your 
 limb was. They are everywhere dreaded, as their 
 wounds cause intense inflammation and pain, the 
 victims almost universally dying of blood-poisoning. 
 They are found in the Mediterranean Sea, around the 
 coast of Florida, and about New Orleans. It is sel 
 dom one comes as far north as this. I can do nothing 
 for you, no man living can. But you can do some 
 thing for me. " 
 
 " Anything in my power, " said the Lieutenant. 
 
 " I am one of the professors of the Bellevue Med 
 ical College. Will you appear before the school and 
 let me lecture on your case?" 
 
 A faint flush mounted to Lieutenant Benners' 
 pale cheek, as he politely but firmly said to this great 
 specialist, " I must beg you to exctfse me, sir. " 
 
 "But think; I never before had such a case, 
 never may again in my lifetime, " said the doctor. 
 
 " I am sorry, but I must beg you to consider my 
 answer positive and final, said the Lieutenant. 
 
 "You are quite decided?" urged the doctor. 
 
 " To be restored to my former health and 
 298
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 strength I might, but you have just assured me that 
 this is impossible. The combined mints of the entire 
 world, however, never turned out gold enough to be 
 the smallest inducement to me to do so for any other 
 reason. I shall pay you, and have the honor, sir, to 
 bid you good day," said the Lieutenant, all his South 
 ern pride standing up in arms. 
 
 " My fee is ten dollars, " said the doctor, feeling 
 a no small amount of contempt for this man who 
 would not make a show of himself, even to lend lustre 
 to a distinguished son of Aesculapius. 
 
 The Lieutenant paid the money and took his de 
 parture, carrying with him an equal contempt for the 
 celebrated specialist. 
 
 He was advised to go to Hot Springs, Arkansas, 
 but was not benefited ; on the contrary, he was made 
 worse by the journey. The sight of so many sick peo 
 ple affected his sympathetic nature and refined feel 
 ings, so he left Hot Springs and went to his home 
 in Virginia. 
 
 His mother, his poor mother, was heart-broken; 
 his sisters wept and refused to be comforted. His 
 mother could not believe her son's case was hopeless; 
 he must go to Europe, try electricity, the Swedish 
 Movement Cure. Some one, some place, could and 
 must restore her boy to her arms, sound and well. 
 He went to London, to Paris, to Germany; submitted 
 himself to all sorts of torture. 
 
 In Germany, a wrinkled old devotee of science 
 confirmed the story of the New York specialist who 
 had first told him of the String Ray. "Go home, my 
 
 299
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 son," said he, " do not be a victim to experimenters 
 any longer. If you are careful of yourself you may 
 yet die of old age, but you will go on three legs as 
 long as you are able to go at all. Every dose of 
 medicine you take is shortening your life. Keep your 
 hands and feet warm, your head cool, your bowels 
 open, and throw medicine to the dogs. Science is a 
 much over-rated dame, she can do little for any one, 
 nothing for you. Go home to your mother, my boy, 
 go home to your mother. " 
 
 And the Lieutenant did go home to his mother; 
 and there he stayed until she died and his sisters both 
 married. Then, the old place having lost its home 
 feeling, he became once more a wanderer. 
 
 The greater part of these incidents, subdued by 
 that modesty which always characterized Lieutenant 
 Benners, he wrote to the " Prince " from time to time, 
 and from such various parts of the world as he hap 
 pened to be in. 
 
 After he had resigned all hope of ever being cured, 
 his general health improved a trifle; probably be 
 cause of the fact that he took no medicine and suf 
 fered no anxiety. The blood-poisoning, from which 
 only his perfect health and vigorous constitution had 
 prevented his dying, had so shaken his whole system 
 that he would always be delicate. Still, as the old 
 German doctor told him, he might live to be an old 
 man. 
 
 In former times he used to think that marrying 
 and settling down was a kind of obligation which 
 iociety imposes on all good people. In those old days 
 
 300
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 he said he intended to fulfill this obligation sometime, 
 but there was no hurry ; forty-five or fifty years of age 
 would be young enough for him to marry. He now 
 regretfully thought that he ought never to impose 
 himself on a wife. The quiet fireside for which he 
 once had so little liking, now represented his only 
 idea of happiness. His misfortunes had made him re 
 construct his conceptions of what is the better part. 
 But alas, it was too late. 
 
 301
 
 CHAPTER XXVIII. 
 The Subjective Likeness and the Objective Pastel. 
 
 One morning, before the "Prince " started down 
 to his office in Wall Street to begin a day at that 
 business to which he was so attentive, he and his wife 
 were in his apartments. York held in his hand a 
 photograph of Adrian Benners, taken in the uniform 
 of a lieutenant in the navy. There were a great 
 many protographs of the Lieutenant around the 
 " Prince's " rooms. These pictures had been taken at 
 different times and places. 
 
 York had been speaking, with feelings of most 
 sympathetic regret, of the sad news contained in 
 Lieutenant Benner's last letter the verdict of the old 
 German professor that Adrian's condition was hope 
 less; that he would be a lifelong cripple. 
 
 Suddenly an idea seemed to strike the " Prince." 
 Patting his wife's cheek softly with the picture he 
 held in his hand, he said, " My darling, you have not 
 done any work at your easel for some time, have 
 you?" 
 
 " I am afraid happy women are not apt to work, 
 my Prince," she made answer, and Ola looked at her 
 husband that she might enjoy the worshipful look he 
 always gave her in return for the endearing expres 
 sion, " my Prince. " When they were alone she 
 
 302
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 never called him anything else ; and for the thousands 
 of times she had bestowed that term upon him, by 
 which she had taught herself to think of him in the 
 old days of his long serving and waiting, he had given 
 her as many thousand worshipful looks. 
 
 " Would my little pet like to do something for 
 me?" 
 
 Instantly she replied, " You know I would. " 
 
 " I was thinking of our friend Benners, and the 
 great misfortune which has overtaken the poor boy, 
 and I would so like to have a fine pastel made from 
 this photograph. It would be doubly valuable to 
 me if done by your hand. " 
 
 York finished this sentence with a rising inflec 
 tion, as though he were asking the question, " Will 
 you do it, my pet? " 
 
 His wife hesitated an instant; only an instant. 
 But he was so quick to notice reluctance on her part, 
 so unwilling to ask an unpleasant work at her hands, 
 so anxious to indulge her in all things to make her 
 life a perfect Paradise, that he said, " Well, never 
 mind, darling, I know pastel making is awfully dirty 
 work. I'll give the order to " 
 
 " No, I will do it for you, " she exclaimed. " I'm 
 afraid my hand has lost its cunning, but I'll try. I'll 
 begin the preparations to-day. If my first attempt 
 does not suit you, I'll try again. I always get so 
 many valuable suggestions from you, that I am in 
 hopes that between us we can produce something 
 not absolutely without merit. I should work, I am of 
 no more use in the world than a bric-a-brac woman/' 
 
 303
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 and she looked at her husband with a half-indolent de 
 precation.- 
 
 "Perhaps a little labor of love now and then 
 might be well, my darling; but I do not want you to 
 tire yourself out, nor injure your health ; so you must 
 promise me you will take this work moderately. There 
 is no hurry about it. " 
 
 She laughed and told him that a woman who 
 would not be lazy with him to spoil her, deserved a 
 greater fame than Rosa Bonheur ever dreamed of. 
 
 He was happy. He kissed her brow; held her 
 black head a moment between his hands, then said : 
 " Good-bye, darling. " He ran lightly down the 
 stairs, and in a few moments she heard the front 
 door close. He had gone to his occupation of making 
 money for the woman he loved. This was the 
 " Prince's" passion money to spend on and for his 
 wife; money for her to spend or squander as she 
 wished. 
 
 Ola held the photograph of Lieutenant Benners 
 in her hand and looked at it long and rememberingly. 
 She had wished to forget the man, and her prolonged 
 absence from him had worked good results in that 
 direction. But now, by her husband's own request, 
 her thoughts must turn backward ; be forced to dwell 
 on that dream of passion from which she had awaken 
 ed, and which she had tried to forget. 
 
 Still looking at the picture, she sank down on a 
 chair. Wave after wave from the ocean of memory 
 rolled up, broke, went back in the undertow of forget- 
 fulness, only to be followed by another. She was 
 
 304
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 again " the woman standing at the window and look 
 ing up at the stars, " again she distinctly saw the 
 Lieutenant approaching her old home. She saw the 
 swaggering, sea-motion of his shoulders which had 
 caused her first thought of him to be : "What an ugly 
 walk he has ! " 
 
 She could hear him say, " You dear girl, I am so 
 glad to find you at home. I was so afraid you were 
 out. " 
 
 There was no pang of guilt in these memories, in 
 which, in fact, the wife had ceased to exist. The most 
 minute details of those days flooded over her. She 
 recalled the way the Lieutenant had gained upon her 
 by his sweet, tender courtesy to all with whom he 
 came in contact. She remembered one occasion upon 
 which he had silently bought an evening paper of one 
 little newsboy who boarded their car, and given it 
 away to the next dirty-faced vendor who appeared. 
 She was living again their first evening at the theatre, 
 and the jack roses. She could smell those roses now, 
 as she looked at the photograph. And oh! the first 
 time he kissed her. And, just as if he had done 
 nothing out of the ordinary, he had put his hand on 
 her shoulder and looked up at the stars. 
 
 Then came his passion for her. She could hear 
 him say : " Now, dear, when I am gone, don't go 1.0 
 reproaching yourself, and feeling regret. You have 
 done nothing wrong. You might give your love and 
 yourself to a man who would be as grateful for them 
 as I am, but you could not find one who would be 
 more grateful. " 
 
 305
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 It may have been the sad news in Adrian's letter 
 to her husband, but it was none the less remarkable 
 that, as the ocean of memory rolled up in wave after 
 wave, and those waves broke and went back in the 
 undertow of forgetfulness, not one of those bitter, 
 suspicious feelings from which she had once suffered 
 on his account was cast up upon the shore of her con 
 sciousness. Only his boyish joynessness, only his gen 
 tle ways, only his amorous caresses, only his warm red 
 Hps, only his bright, beautiful eyes, only his thank 
 ful, happy way. And in the break of the waves here 
 and there, came softly to her ears : " You dear girl ! 
 You are just as neat and sweet and clean as you can 
 be, " and again she seemed to detect that balmy odor 
 of pine or myrrh which seemed to permeate every 
 thing that belonged to him, and which she had notic 
 ed on the first letter she ever received from him. 
 
 All these thoughts surged upon her as she held 
 the photograph of Lieutenant Benners in her hand 
 and looked so rememberingly at it. She could see 
 the coloring of youth and perfect health which she 
 knew should underlie that black shadow on the cheek. 
 She knew how red the lips were, she could see them 
 part in greeting her. But no artist could put that 
 keen, boyish expression of gratitude for appreciation 
 into those beautiful eyes. 
 
 The the picture changed; it assumed various 
 poses and attitudes. She rubbed her finger gently 
 over the shadow sleeve of the lieutenant's uniform, 
 and, shadow though it was, she could feel the warm 
 flesh underneath. She could feel the swell of the 
 
 306
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 muscles on the arm just below the shoulder joint, 
 which she had told him was so like a woman's arm. 
 The clock ticked on and the minutes grew into 
 hours; but she did not move. She was living again 
 her life with Adrian Benners; and, by strange mercy 
 of that most mercilness of all tyrants, Memory, she 
 was living the happy part of those experiences only. 
 At length, with the same joyous surrender to the in 
 toxication of her revery which she had once yielded to 
 the mesmeric touch of Adrian Benners, she pressed 
 the picture to her lips, and fancied the cold shadow 
 was awakened into life and was warm with passion. 
 Her lips parted in sweet song: 
 
 " As the flight of a river, 
 
 That flows to the sea, 
 My soul rushes ever, 
 
 In tumult to thee; 
 A two-fold existence, 
 
 I am where thou art, 
 My heart in the distance 
 
 Beats close to thy heart. 
 Look up! I am with thee, 
 
 I gaze on thy face; 
 I see thee, I hear thee 
 
 I feel thy embrace. " 
 
 If ever human soul realized the power of thought 
 to incarnate its own conceptions, Ola Del did at that 
 moment; feeling the actual, living presence of the 
 man she had loved so fondly, so unreasoningly. Her 
 voice was flexible, sympathetic; her musical feeling 
 
 307
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 tuned to an almost infinite perfection, her imagina 
 tion as boundless as the universe. These endow 
 ments needed no vulgar mechanism constructed by 
 the hand of man to transport her to the presence of 
 her lover and put her in perfect accord with him. 
 Rapturously repeating the refrain, 
 
 " Look up ! I am with thee, 
 
 I gaze on thy face, 
 I see thee, I hear thee, 
 
 I feel thy embrace. " 
 
 She arose joyfully and cried out, " Yes, my love, 
 I will keep you! You shall abide with me forever! 
 I will cast your shadow in pastel and crayon and oil. 
 I will even try, if I can do so from memory, to model 
 you in clay. You shall abide with me forever and 
 ever!" 
 
 Her intense nature was aroused and she threw 
 herself, body and soul, into her work. All reluctance 
 for the task was gone ; she was not alone willing, but 
 enthusiastic. Her husband came home and found her 
 absorbed, radiantly happy. Her cheeks, usually GO 
 pale, were flushed and her eyes sparkled with a glad 
 light. He looked a little alarmed and begged her not 
 to tire herself. 
 
 " This is a labor of love, " she exclaimed " and 
 true love never can tire. " 
 
 And he? Never since he had known her, had he 
 loved her so dearly. In all his subsequent life with 
 her, he had modeled himself by the pattern she first 
 prescribed to him at the time when she so feared to 
 
 308
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 arouse passion within him, lest the manifestation of 
 that attribute should make her hate him. He had lov 
 ed her with a pure and holy love ; such complete 
 control did he have of himself, so much did he ven 
 erate her, that if for any legitimate cause it had been 
 desirable not to claim a husband's rights, he still 
 would have been singly and devotedly hers, to the 
 end of his life. 
 
 It never had occurred to the " Prince " to think 
 his wife was cold and unresponsive to him. She was 
 simply modest, as a wife should be. Had she been his 
 mistress, perhaps her reign would have been short. 
 But she was not a courtesan ; she was his wife, modest, 
 sweet, wifely; and she was the embodiment of his 
 fancies, the realization of his ideal. In his eyes she 
 was perfect; and this conception of her was not with 
 out reasonable justification; for she had always felt 
 an intense gratitude to him, and the fondest, purest 
 love. 
 
 She was watchful and he appreciative. He did 
 not dream there was a part of her nature asleep. It is 
 not what a man has, but what he thinks he has, which 
 constitutes his happiness. From first to last, Ola had 
 ever impressed upon him the fact (for with the single 
 exception of Lieutenant Benners it was a fact) that 
 any show of passion from a man was loathsome and 
 disgusting to her. 
 
 Her excessive modesty and purity of language had 
 made him worship her. He was so constructed by 
 nature that to worship was one of the essentials of 
 his existence. He could no more have lived, in the 
 
 309
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 full meaning of the word, without some outlet for 
 this sentiment, than he could have breathed satisfac 
 torily with an insufficient supply of oxygen in the air. 
 
 Memory had stirred the depths of her soul and 
 flushed her cheek. She had touched her lips to the in 
 toxicating draught, and she knew not how to put it 
 from her. She was happy, and her joy shone upon 
 all her features and her husband was jubilant be 
 cause he attributed her elation to the pleasure she felt 
 in doing something for him. She was in high spirits 
 and they laughed and talked gayly about the pastel. 
 He told her he was going to put it in a "passe 
 partout" and buy an elegant easel upon which to stand 
 it, and she laughed immoderately at the incongruity 
 of the idea. When they went down to dinner, the 
 same subject was the burden of their conversation. 
 Harold York never drank wine ; by some idiosyncrasy 
 of his nature he could not. But the doctors had told 
 him he should urge his wife to drink a little every 
 day. She was a nervous, restless temperament, pre 
 disposed to weak lungs, with occasionally a some 
 what alarming cough. He went to no end of trouble 
 and pains to get wines which he believed to be pure 
 for her. As a general thing Ola objected to drink, 
 ipping just a little to please him. 
 
 This evening, however, she was excited; and, 
 while chatting and laughing with her husband, with 
 out in the least knowing what she was doing, she 
 drank all the butler put in her glass. The " Prince " 
 laughed at her and told her if she kept on improving 
 at that rate, he would have to carry the key of the 
 
 310
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 wine-cellar himself before many months. 
 
 As they went upstairs he playfully put his arm 
 around her waist, making some joke about steadying 
 her. She tried a few chords on her piano, but she 
 could not play, and walked nervously up and down 
 her suite of apartments. Then both of them, seem 
 ingly impelled by one desire, went out of her rooms 
 into those of her husband around which Were 
 scattered the photographs of Lieutenant Benners. 
 Here they sat upon a tete-a-tete, chattering and 
 chirping as senselessly and happily as two young 
 birds. 
 
 " Darling, the gas is so glaring, " he said, " shall 
 we lower it a little?" 
 
 " Do. Put it way down. I am not afraid of the 
 dark if I have you to protect me. " 
 
 " What a great boy am I ? " said Mr. York, look 
 ing around laughingly at his wife. 
 
 Lower, lower, he turned the gas, until all in the 
 room was covered with grey shadow; then he re 
 turned to her side and passed his arm around her 
 waist, telling her in his simple little monotonous way, 
 how dear she was to him; how much he wished to 
 make her happy ; how her spirit was ever present with 
 him. To Ola's fancy, as her husband talked on, the 
 tones of his voice changed, he lost his New York in 
 flection and accent. In its place came what she had 
 termed, in Lieutenant Benners, his " Southern Con- 
 fedracy " accent, that which belongs to those of the 
 sweet, balmy South. She could easily detect a 
 strange odor about her husband's clothes. It was the
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 aromatic, piney odor which always scented Adrian's 
 possessions. 
 
 Back, back, back, into the ocean of memory she 
 floated. Without in the least thinking of what she 
 was doing, she put both her arms around her hus 
 band's neck, drew him close to her, kissed his lips and 
 said, with a passion she had never before shown to 
 him, " My Love, my Love ! I am so glad I have 
 you. Have you been true to me since we have been 
 separated ? " 
 
 The " Prince " was in ecstacies ; and she was so 
 deep in the past that she was unconscious even that 
 he lived. Her husband began to pull the pins out 
 here and there, but she made no protest He took 
 down her beautiful black hair ; she was dreamily com 
 placent. She let him do with her as he would. 
 
 For the first time since they had been married, 
 her own apartments were tenantless until the morn 
 ing. 
 
 The next day and the next and for many days 
 thereafter Ola worked on the pastel of Lieutenant 
 Benners, always eagerly, always lovingly, always 
 vividly remembering. She seemed well and happy, she 
 did not grow tired of her work nor impatient with it. 
 Each day the roots of the love her husband felt for 
 her, struck deeper and deeper into his heart. He 
 talked to her, encouraged her, praised her progress. 
 Before she began working on this pastel of Lieutenant 
 Benners, the " Prince " had thought her perfect ; but, 
 without knowing why she did or how she could have 
 done so, she had surely added to herself another 
 
 312
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 charm ; and her husband regretted it when he saw 
 that the picture was nearly finished. 
 
 After he had framed it appropriately and put it 
 on its beautiful easel, they stood in front of it, admir 
 ing her work. The husband was lavish with his 
 praise, and Ola was proud; for the likeness was per 
 fect and striking. In all except his black hair, the 
 Lieutenant was an admirable subject for work in 
 pastel. The flesh-tints of his face were rich and 
 beautiful ; his eyes were dark blue and the naval uni 
 form looked soft and rich. 
 
 " How would you like to try a crayon head from 
 this profile?" said the "Prince." "It would just 
 fit that spot on the wall over that mosaic table." 
 
 So at the crayon Ola went to work, and was as 
 happy and enthusiastic it its creation as she had 
 been over the one in colors. On the crayon how care 
 ful she was to make no stroke amiss, for there was 
 no putting those black marks in, and rubbing them 
 out; if they were unsatisfactory, they must stay. 
 
 The " Prince " had no use for Heaven ; he lived 
 in Paradise every day of his life every day and hour 
 and minute. 
 
 He was going to be a father. 
 
 How carefully he scrutinized every investment 
 he made ; he must get more money that his child could 
 be rich. In his own mind Mr. York had quite settled 
 it that this baby would be a daughter. Ola wondered 
 at this, and to her questionings he replied, " Oh, you 
 can love a little girl so much more than you can a 
 boy. " 
 
 313
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 Had he expressed exactly the shadowy wish 
 which was in his heart, he would have said : " I want 
 a daughter that she may remind me of you. " 
 
 Ola worked on and on, reproducing Lieutenant 
 Benners, in one form or another for almost the entire 
 time. At her easel or at her piano, playing over the 
 simple music Adrian had fancied, for she used to 
 tell him his taste in music was shockingly plebeian, 
 she lived with him, dreamed of him, steeped her whole 
 soul in the memory of his soft words and caresses; 
 walked in a happy trance. 
 
 She did not even buy the infant's wardrobe. The 
 " Prince " did that, and he sent home enough for a 
 foundling asylum. If there was ever anything in 
 the shape of a luxury that mortal man had invented 
 for those little household tyrants, babies, be sure the 
 " Prince " sent it home for the prospective daughter. 
 And to his wife came slippers and gowns beyond 
 number. He was an excellent judge of drygoods, 
 having in his younger days served a long apprentice 
 ship with A. T. Stewart. 
 
 When the baby came, it was a boy. 
 
 Ola expressed her regret to her husband that he 
 should have been disappointed, but he said, " Never 
 mind, darling! He shall be your little lover and my 
 ' Co.' And, sweet, since it is a boy, if you have no 
 objection, we will name him for my poor friend Ben 
 ners. If the baby had been a girl, nothing could have 
 saved it from bearing your dear name; but it doesn't 
 matter much what boys are called, and Benners is 
 such a noble fellow, such a gentleman, poor boy ! " 
 
 3H
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 The " Prince " never could reconcile himself to 
 the Lieutenant's misfortune. 
 
 Ola looked at her husband and murmured some 
 words of affection. Then raising herself gently, she 
 took the child in her arms, and, holding the little 
 pink fingers in her own white hand, she kissed them. 
 Tears of love and gratitude, forced to her eyes by 
 overflowing maternal joy, dropped on the little face. 
 
 Thus, and thus only, was the " Prince's " son 
 christened and baptized. Christened Adrian Benners 
 York, in token of his father's appreciation of the win 
 ning ways of Lieutenant Benners, and baptized with 
 his mother's tears! Appropriate, oh, most appropriate 
 baptism ! 
 
 The child grew and prospered and brought 
 peace to his mother, and pride to his father's heart. 
 At seven years of age he was the living miniature of 
 Lieutenant Benners, whose soul-child he was. 
 
 315
 
 CHAPTER XXIX. 
 "Oh. Adrian! Adrian!" 
 
 "Is Mr. York in?" 
 
 "I think he is. What name sir, if you please?" 
 said Joe. Mr. York made use of Joe as a sort of 
 Cerberus to guard the outer door of his offices lest 
 any profitless spinner of yarns should take up his 
 valuable time. 
 
 " Benners. It is just as well, perhaps, if you say 
 Lieutenant Benners. " 
 
 Joe took the name in, and the " Prince " in 
 stantly excused himself to the gentleman with whom 
 he was negotiating for a block of bonds, and came 
 out to greet his old friend. Mr. York halted an in 
 stant; but, recovering his presence of mind before 
 his hesitation became marked or noticeable, he 
 stepped quickly outside and exclaimed, " Why, my 
 dear old fellow, how glad I am to see you! Come 
 right into my private office." And he held the gate 
 open for Lieutenant Benners to pass in. 
 
 It was no wonder the " Prince " almost failed 
 to recognize his friend; the wonder was that he re 
 covered his self-possession so soon, for the man who 
 now stood before him, leaning so heavily upon a 
 stout cane, bore little resemblance to the handsome 
 naval officer he had known and liked so well but a 
 few years ago. Lieutenant Benners' face was pale, 
 
 316
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 his cheeks and eyes sunken ; a sad smile occasionally 
 hovered around his pale lips, once so full and 
 red. His neck was thin and the tendons stuck out 
 conspicuously; the flesh was gone from his hands 
 and wrists and the white skin had settled 
 over the bones, making the tracings of the blue veins 
 easy to follow. The Lieutenant was lame, pitifully 
 lame. He could raise his left foot a trifle, but he 
 leaned upon his cane, and pushed his right foot along 
 on the floor; or sometimes, by a movement from his 
 hip, he threw it around and forward a trifle. 
 
 In the old days Ola had so rejoiced in what she 
 called the trinity of his youth, and health, and beauty. 
 Alas, for the destruction ! It was enough to make the 
 most indifferent weep. If youth, and health, and 
 beauty form the most perfect trinity of a glorious 
 manhood, what an ill-matched pair are youth and 
 disease. 
 
 Pitiful ! pitiful ! pitiful ! the shadows had settled 
 over his life at high noon. 
 
 In the prime and vigor of his manhood, death 
 had challenged him to a mortal combat; and now by 
 fractional portions of a drop, his blood was leaving 
 him day by day, hour by hour, his vital forces waning 
 with each breath he drew. In the olden times he 
 had lived for the joys of the flesh. What did his life 
 mean to him now? In the olden times his advice to 
 Ola had been, do this, or that, or the other, and you 
 will live longer. Now, life meant resignation to him. 
 
 And this blow had been given to him in a merry 
 hour, from a source from which he could have the 
 
 317
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 least expected it. Sporting with gay, frivolous com 
 panions, he had been brought low, and thus was he 
 taught the value of a love which will remain stead 
 fast through the silent watches of nights of pain. 
 Where now was that love? Where? Where were 
 the gay companions of those merry-making days? 
 They were still alive, still gay, and they were still 
 merry-making with those who could make merry 
 with them. And that love which would have re 
 mained steadfast through the silent watches of nights 
 of pain had found a haven of rest. 
 
 The " Prince " begged the gentleman with whom 
 he was negotiating for a block of bonds to excuse 
 him until the next day. This was a great compliment 
 to Lieutenant Benners. It was not everybody for 
 whom Mr. York would set aside the negotiations for a 
 block of bonds. The " Prince " chatted a moment or 
 two to his old-time favorite but felt himself somewhat 
 circumscribed. He could not talk bonds to the Lieu 
 tenant, so he drifted into almost the only other subject 
 with which he was at perfect ease that of his wife 
 and child. 
 
 " I want you to go up to the house and take 
 lunch with Ola," he said. "This is rather an uncomfor 
 table place to stay. I get home pretty early, then 
 we will have a most enjoyable family reunion this 
 evening. I will ring Ola up on the telephone and 
 ask her to send one of the carriages down for you. " 
 
 The Lieutenant begged the " Prince " not to 
 go to so much trouble, as he could just as well take 
 the street cars.
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 "No trouble at all," said the "Prince." "I 
 speak to her for a few moments every day, about this 
 time. You see I like to know how she and the boy 
 are getting along. That's the greatest boy in New 
 York, Benners. He's as handsome as they make 'em. 
 As to the horses, you will be doing me a favor if 
 you make plenty of use of them. Ola calls our car 
 riages and horses bothersome gauds and vanities. 
 She starts out with the boy and nurse; when they 
 reach the park, she makes the coachman stop; then 
 she jumps out, throws her heavy wraps back into 
 the carriage, takes out the child, throws his furs back 
 into the carriage, sends the coachman off, giving him 
 his instructions how long to be gone. Then the maid 
 lolls back in the carriage, enjoying the ride and the 
 distinction of being occasionally pointed out as my 
 wife ; while Ola is thought the nurse girl of her own 
 child. She and that boy romp, play tag, and foot-ball, 
 around the park until the coachman returns and picks 
 them up. Did I ever tell you the trick she played on 
 me about the horse and phaeton I sent her before we 
 were married? " 
 
 " I think not, " said the Lieutenant, and he smiled 
 at the " Prince's " garrulous, uxorious verbosity. 
 
 " Well, you see that was when Ola was working 
 and studying a great deal too hard. She got pale 
 and thin, and she was most awfully troubled with 
 insomnia. After a great deal of coaxing, I persuaded 
 her to let me send her this horse. I had picked up 
 a pretty good old plug that I thought wouldn't cut 
 up any tricks with her, and I am not a mean judge of 
 
 319
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 horse flesh. Said I, ' Now, darling, this horse must 
 be exercised every day, if the weather permits. Other 
 wise, he will get sick.' Well, she promised me the 
 horse should be exercised every day, and she kept her 
 word, but you will never guess how she did it. " 
 
 " I don't think I could, " said Lieutenant Ben- 
 ners ; and he could not help enjoying the " Prince's " 
 enthusiasm in reciting these trivialities. 
 
 " Why, she kept a regular theatrical date book 
 for that horse. " 
 
 Here the " Prince " laughed heartily, and the 
 Lieutenant, out of sheer sympathy, joined in mildly. 
 Their mirth at an end, the " Prince " continued, 
 "Yes, sir; in a neat little book (it was a fancy cal 
 endar, with an opposite blank for remarks) she had 
 the hours the horse and phaeton were engaged for, 
 and who was to drive him. She always allowed him 
 to be used upon the condition that should the stable- 
 keeper report any abuse of the animal, this should 
 be deemed a just reason for not lending him to that 
 inhumane person again, see? " 
 
 The Lieutenant bowed, in token that he did see, 
 and then he said, " But how did you learn this?" 
 
 " Yes, I'm coming to that. You see Ola did not 
 improve any, and I began to think my horse a bad 
 investment; thought maybe he was too poky and re 
 liable even for a woman to enjoy; so I wrote Ola a 
 note and asked her to be at home that afternoon 
 about four, as I wanted her to take me out in her 
 phaeton to look at some property I was thinking of 
 
 320
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 buying, and which I wanted her to see. I generally 
 talked to her about my investments. You see I 
 wanted to get her views. At the first glance at any 
 thing, her opinion is good. Well, we went; and 
 when we got home I noticed that she looked better, 
 and the horse really wasn't so bad. You see a man 
 has to be pretty careful of the woman he loves. I 
 drove around to the stable and got to talking with 
 the keeper, when bless me, if he didn't let the whole 
 thing out," and the " Prince " laughed again, as he 
 thought of these trifles. 
 
 " I did not know but Miss Thome had told 
 you" 
 
 "Nell?" said the "Prince" in astonishment. 
 " Not much ! Nell likes me, I know she does. But 
 wild horses couldn't drag anything out of her that 
 she thought Ola did not want her to tell. After that 
 I knew what I had to do, I made it my business to 
 see that Ola got an airing every day. Finally she 
 began to suspect, and she launched right into the mat 
 ter and made me confess. Do you know I felt like a 
 sneak, when I told her what the livery-stable man 
 had said; but the little angel was just as sweet as 
 she could be. 
 
 " She pretended not to notice my confusion ; but 
 sat down on a hassock at my feet, and looking up 
 at me she said, ' You do not know how ashamed 
 I feel, to think I could neglect any request from you; 
 for you have always been so good, so noble, so every 
 thing, to lift my soul up to holy things. If you can 
 and will forgive me for this, I will try not to let 
 
 321
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 even a semblance of deception mar my conduct to 
 ward you again.' 
 
 " Then she put he* hands on my knees and looked 
 up at me with tears in her big eyes. I tell you I felt 
 as if about ten years in Sing Sing at breaking stones, 
 would be letting me off easy. Ola likes to walk, but 
 she detests a carriage. Now I'll just call her up on 
 the telephone and have her send for you. " 
 
 The Lieutenant saw that he could not escape, so 
 he made no further protest. 
 
 He had never seen Ola since the night she had 
 left him at " Bronze's " door. She had been married 
 shortly after that, and at the time of her marriage the 
 " Grant " was off on a cruise. Then Ola and her 
 husband had spent the summer in Europe, and be 
 fore they returned, the accident which made him a 
 cripple for life had occurred ; after that he had traveled 
 from place to place, in the hope of getting cured. So, 
 quite easily and naturally, his going out of her life 
 could be accounted for. 
 
 The " Prince " at the telephone said to his wife : 
 "Are you all right, darling?" 
 
 " Yes, thank you, " came the answer. 
 
 "And the Lieutenant?" 
 
 " He is very busy making Mamma's portrait. He 
 has turned down the corners of my mouth in a de 
 cidedly "Micky " fashion, and given one of my eyes 
 a most pronounced Ben Butler cast, but these trifles 
 sink into utter insignificance when compared with the 
 worry of getting the hair to suit him," said Ola over 
 the telephone. 
 
 322
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 The " Prince " repeated all these answers to Lieu 
 tenant Benners, under the comforting delusion that 
 any item about his wife and child would be of interest 
 to his friend. 
 
 " Tell the boy to give his art a rest, and get into 
 the carriage and come down to the office and I will 
 present him to his namesake, " said the " Prince. " 
 Then he bade his wife a most affectionate good-bye, 
 charging her to be sure to keep Lieutenant Benners 
 a close prisoner until he should come home. Mr. York 
 dismissed finance from his mind for the time being, 
 by charging Joe not to disturb him while his friend 
 the Lieutenant was with him. The carriage arrived 
 with the child and his nurse. The proud father pre 
 sented the ex-Lieutenant and the would-be Lieutenant 
 to each other, and the two at once settled down into 
 a most comfortable admiration of each other. The 
 little fellow did not know quite as much about ships, 
 as his namesake did, but he thought he knew more, so 
 that balanced matters. 
 
 Arrived at the house, the nurse took the child up 
 stairs to remove his wraps, and Ola went down into 
 the drawing-room to meet Lieutenant Benners, who, 
 she comfortingly assured herself, was now simply her 
 friend, and even more her husband's friend than he 
 was her own. When she entered the room, the Lieu 
 tenant arose from the chair upon which he had been 
 seated, to greet her. For the instant she did not 
 recognize him; then^all the pitiful truth rushed upon 
 her, and, groaning. " Oh ! Adrian ! Adrian ! " she 
 sank upon a couch near the door, and buried her face 
 
 323
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 in her hands, as if thus to shut out and remove at 
 one and the same time the view and the fact. 
 
 How often in the old days of their love, had Lieu 
 tenant Benners reproved her for always addressing 
 him by his title. To say " Adrian " to him then, 
 seemed a familiarity which came not easily to her 
 tongue. But now, that her yearning heart ached for 
 the wreck, the name sprang instinctively to her lips. 
 
 Men boast that they are the strong, are the pro 
 tectors of the weak. It is an ungracious enough task 
 to detract from what a man really is worth ; it is pain 
 ful to be obliged to prove to him that he assumes a 
 virtue which he possesses not but, gentlemen, the 
 protective feeling is stronger in the woman than in 
 the man ; stronger in the girl, than in the boy ; 
 stronger in the female of almost all the higher orders 
 of animal life, than in the male; and is but the man 
 ifestation of the maternal instinct. Watch the chil 
 dren playing on the street, the sister will run to pick 
 up her brother, wipe away his tears, bind up his 
 wounds. But the brother? Oh, he looks carelessly 
 around, and if his sister is not seriously hurt, he lets 
 the other girls attend to her while he keeps on with 
 his sport. 
 
 Look, now, down upon that court, or square in 
 which the children from the rear tenements are play 
 ing. They are the children of the poor; not the 
 squalid, abject poor, but of the laborer, the mechanic. 
 Among the number there are a little boy and girl of 
 about four years of age ; they are twins, and between 
 these children there is a most beautiful and remark- 
 
 324
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 able affection, of great strength. They are seldom 
 separated from each other, and it is a study to watch 
 their actions. 
 
 The girl pets, caresses, waits upon, worships her 
 brother. She loves him because she can pet, caress 
 and wait upon him ; and he loves her because she 
 does so. If any of the children abuse the little boy, 
 the first thing the sister does is to raise her little hand 
 and slap the offender. Then she will go up to her 
 brother and kiss him ; she will brush the blonde curls 
 out of his eyes; with her dirty little apron she will 
 wipe away the tears from his cheeks. The affection 
 between them is beautiful to see; but it is ever 
 marked with these distinctive and distinguishing dif 
 ferences. She loves him because she can pet, caress 
 and wait upon him ; and he loves her because she does 
 pet, caress and wait upon him. 
 
 These are the feelings Nature plants within the 
 breast and the masculine assumption of a protective 
 instinct is merely an assumption. It is simply the 
 improvement which civilization, enlightenment and re 
 finement have made in the animal man. The savage 
 beats his squaw and makes her carry the burden; 
 but she loves him and dresses the wounds he has 
 received while on the war-path. 
 
 The gentleman courteously raises the portieres 
 for his wife to pass out, and carries her most trifling 
 .bundle for her; but the gentlewoman also goes to the 
 seat of war to nurse her wounded husband. And the 
 first real, refreshing sleep the general has after he is 
 wounded, is when he knows his wife, upon whom he 
 
 325
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 can rely, is there beside him. There will be no mis 
 takes now; so he sleeps. Civilization, culture, re 
 finement, have taught the man he must not wrong his 
 physical inferior, whether that inferior be male or 
 female. But the instinct is in him to dominate, as it 
 is in her to serve; as witness the brutality of hus 
 bands in the lower walks of life those men who 
 have furnished the novelist with models for such 
 characters as " Bill Sykes. " 
 
 When Ola saw her once glorious lover standing 
 before her such a physical wreck that the merest 
 ^hild could have slain him, all the tender, caressing, 
 maternal instincts that are born with and of femi 
 ninity, welled up in her heart ; and, as purely as his 
 own mother could have wept for him, she sank down 
 on the couch and gave vent to her sorrow in that 
 groan of agony. 
 
 The Lieutenant, slowly, painfully, with the aid 
 of his stout staff, made his way to her, and putting his 
 white hand gently on her black curls, said, " Oh, you 
 poor dear girl ! It was an awful shock to you, was 
 it not ? I thought you knew. " 
 
 " I did know, but" 
 
 " But you did not think it was so bad, I see. I 
 understand. In a little time you will become more 
 accustomed to my appearance. " 
 
 Lieutenant Benners had written to the " Prince, " 
 telling of his hopeless lameness, and of course Ola 
 knew of it. But, by the fortunate possessor of sight, 
 the eye is so trusted, so relied upon for impressions, 
 that it is well nigh impossible to gain a realistic idea 
 
 326
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 from a pen-picture. You hear that a friend, whom 
 you last saw in perfect health, is dying, is wasted to 
 the merest skeleton. You hasten to his bedside, but 
 you are almost as much shocked as you could have 
 been had you been ushered in upon him totally un 
 prepared. Intellectually, you knew of the waste; but 
 the picture left in your mind, the one to which your 
 fond heart turned, was of that friend in full health and 
 strength. 
 
 Ola knew that the Lieutenant was lame; knew 
 that he walked with a cane; knew that he was much 
 reduced in flesh ; but memory, tender and merciful, 
 always painted her a picture of a symmetrical, glori 
 ously perfect man, all his physical being throbbing 
 with the rapture of living. And now, what was be 
 fore her? Her recollection of that in which her lover 
 had once stood unrivaled, was dead, cruelly slain by 
 that one look upon the ravages disease had made in 
 him. 
 
 He sat on the couch beside her and talked to 
 her with that low, sweet, musical voice. He told her 
 how for a long time he had hoped he might recover; 
 how he had traveled all over Europe and consulted 
 most of the celebrated physicians of the Old World; 
 how he had at last most reluctantly accepted the 
 verdict which consigned him to a life-long invalidism. 
 He said his two sisters were married, happily mar 
 ried, in their old home in Virginia; that his father 
 and mother were both dead. The father died first, 
 the mother but a little more than a year afterwards. 
 He told Ola his mother's life had been so sheltered 
 
 327
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 by his father's love, was so beautifully pure and true, 
 that though she lived in the world, she never really 
 had been part of the world. 
 
 Sin had been to her, he said, simply a word used 
 to convey an idea of something which caused many 
 people to sorrow, and for which she also, in a vague 
 incomprehensible way, grieved. She died, thinking 
 her sea-captain husband had been as true to her as 
 she had been to him. She died, believing her sons 
 as virtuous as her daughters. 
 
 Blessed innocence! Blessed ignorance! She 
 lived in a Paradise created by her own pure heart, 
 and if she did not inherit Heaven after death, at 
 least she had had it here; and not even God him 
 self could deprive her of that. 
 
 Ola learned that at his mother's request, and with 
 the consent of the other children, the family fortune, 
 which was small, had passed to him. He never had 
 known the want of money, and he never would know 
 it. He had never been rich and never would be, but 
 he had enough for his reasonable wants. 
 
 As he sat beside her and told her this story, she 
 listened, scarce speaking a word; and in that hour 
 her love for the man was rounded and perfected into 
 a something which is entitled to inherit eternal life. 
 In that hour she realized that he had passed through 
 the fires of purification, and that from this trial his 
 soul had issued forth, in an even more matchless per 
 fection than his body had ever shown. Disease had 
 wrought fearful havoc in the physical man ; but that 
 tender, beautiful, sympathetic soul of Adrian Ben- 
 
 328
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 ners had emerged from the crucible, a pure, white, 
 flawless gem. 
 
 But she? She was still of and on the earth. She 
 grieved that he was stricken ; she rebelled against the 
 fate which had dealt him this blow. With that keen 
 divination which had always been his, the Lieutenant 
 noticed that Ola was sorrowful, and he knew that 
 it was for him she grieved. So he tried to turn her 
 mind into happier channels, by asking her of her child. 
 
 Yes, the boy was gloriously beautiful, both 
 in mind and body. He was four years old now. He 
 had early shown an artistic tendency to sketch por 
 traits, for which she was sorry. She would not care 
 to have him an artist. Still, as he would probably be 
 wealthy, and thus could, if he wished, devote himself 
 to art without thought of gain, it would not so mucn 
 matter. She wondered if the Lieutenant had noticed 
 in the boy the remarkable resemblance to himself. 
 
 Again the man beside her divined her thoughts, 
 and he said, smiling at Ola, " I think I shall have to 
 establish some sort of secondary claim on the boy, 
 since he is my namesake. Do you not think there is 
 a look of my old-time self in the child?" 
 
 " Yes, Adrian, he is like you in looks and dis 
 position. He wins hearts wherever he goes. Some 
 times I tremble, when I notice how naturally that 
 baby tongue takes to soft, sweet love-talk. Of course 
 he hears a great deal of that from his father; but 
 there is, to my keen eye, a shade of difference be 
 tween my son and my husband. The ' Prince ' I beg 
 
 329
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 your pardon?" and she blushed as she looked at the 
 Lieutenant. 
 
 " Don't, my dear girl, the word is well chosen. 
 You could not have selected a better one. " 
 
 " It is my pettest of pet names for my husband. 
 One I gave him in the old days of his serving and 
 waiting. At first I don't think he liked it over-well; 
 but when he learned how much it meant to me, he 
 also grew fond of it. Oh, Adrian, one can never know 
 the beauty of that man's soul, the purity of his life, 
 his devotion to his family and friends. That there is 
 but one woman in the world for him, is a fact so well 
 established that fast women and adventuresses of 
 all kinds leave him unmolested. 
 
 " His stenographer answers all letters from 
 women, except when they relate to the purchase of 
 bonds or securities of some kind, by a fixed rule. He 
 is instructed to say that Mr. York desires to assist, 
 as much as is in his power, all worthy women; but 
 that his time is so occupied he is obliged to refer these 
 matters to his wife. Some of the women come to 
 me; my maid knows the form of Harold's letters, 
 and after questioning the applicant, passes the letter 
 on to me. On the back of it I write the address of a 
 sweet, bed-ridden saint. At the home of this woman 
 the applicant gets a small sum of money, and her case 
 is investigated. Thus, you see, my husband refers 
 his charities to me, and I, in turn, shift the trouble 
 upon another. 
 
 " I am afraid I lead a rather inexcusably selfish 
 life. I have but one consolation those of my house- 
 
 330
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 hold love me; my husband idolizes me, and my child 
 is, and always will be, guided to the best of my 
 abilities. 
 
 " If Mr. York feels that he must meet some men at 
 any of the hotels in the evening, we go down in that 
 detestable carriage of ours, and I wait in the parlor 
 for him. When he meets his fellow financiers, he 
 says : ' Now gentlemen, I can give you just half an 
 hour. My wife is in the parlor waiting for me, and 
 I don't weary her patience for anything in this world, 
 or the next, either. ' I am not worthy this adoration ; 
 but may the delusion last him while he lives, " said 
 Ola fervently. 
 
 " Oh, yes, you are," said Lieutenant Benners. 
 
 At this moment the " Prince " entered the room, 
 and the Lieutenant laughingly appealed to him for 
 confirmation of the assertion, which, when the mat 
 ter was once explained, was instantly given. And 
 there and then Harold York took the Lieutenant 
 another step into the inmost sanctuary of his heart. 
 
 331
 
 CHAPTER XXX. 
 
 Observe how well-defined and clear-cut are the lines 
 in the subjective likeness. 
 
 As the years passed, the child Adrian day by day 
 grew in strength, beauty, vivacity and intelligence. 
 His features were not classic, but his form was a 
 model for a sculptor. All his little limbs were rounded 
 to the most matchless symmetry. He was as light 
 and active on his feet as a young fawn, he had never 
 been ill an hour in his life; and, an only child, sur 
 rounded always by the most brilliant people, he was 
 simply a miniature man. More yet, he was a cour 
 tier and a wit. He had not one childish way about 
 him. 
 
 The boy was a never-ceasing source of study and 
 wonderment to his mother. Every spontaneous, 
 natural act. was like Lieutenant Benners. In all the 
 child's deference to, and adoration for his mother, he 
 was like the " Prince. " From the first dawn of his 
 infantile intelligence, his father had made a com 
 panion of him. As soon as the baby could sit in his 
 high-chair, Mr. York had had his son brought to the 
 family table. Of this Ola never thoroughly approved 
 but the " Prince's " food was so simple, it would not 
 hurt a child or anybody else, he declared. The baby 
 
 332
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 talked some time before he could walk, and nurse said: 
 
 " Talk before you go, 
 Born for trouble and woe. " 
 
 But the baby laughed his way along and did not 
 seem to mind this dismal prophecy. The first word 
 he ever said was " spoon, " and it was manifest that 
 he knew what object on the breakfast table the word 
 " spoon, " indicated. His father was delighted, and 
 tried the child over and over again; but the baby 
 could not be confused. He had that bit of knowledge 
 firmly fixed and he held on to it. The " Prince " 
 eagerly inquired of his wife how long she thought 
 it would be before he would put words into sen 
 tences ? 
 
 " Some time, probably ! " replied Ola. " He will 
 not talk a great deal before he is two years old, and 
 he is but a little more than one, now." 
 
 The father seemed a trifle discouraged at the 
 prospect of such a long wait before he could talk 
 finance to his son. But whenever he was in the 
 house, if the child were awake, he was constantly 
 practicing with the little fellow. The " Prince's *' 
 method was principally object teaching. No matter 
 what the baby was told to say, he would attempt it. 
 Then he would laugh, turn his head a trifle to one 
 side and look down for an instant, at some object on 
 the floor; then up at his father and mother, as if to 
 read approbation in their eyes ; then laugh softly 
 again. 
 
 Already that turn of the baby head, that soft, 
 333
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 low laugh, had struck Ola as being so like Lieuten 
 ant Benners. She had often wondered if the " Prince " 
 had ever noticed the striking resemblance the child 
 bore to the Lieutenant. He never had. 
 
 Ola once said, " This child has blue eyes and 
 black hair; he must be some stray little waif changed 
 in his cradle, after the time-honored gypsy fashion. " 
 
 The father laughed, as he rubbed his hand softly 
 over the little black head. " That is quite a fair 
 division, darling. Your own beautiful hair is black, 
 and my eyes are blue. " 
 
 " But this hair will never be in the least like 
 mine; it is coarse and stiff and rebellious," said the 
 mother. 
 
 "Don't let that worry you, darling; he can get 
 along without a great deal of beauty, he is a boy; 
 and when he comes to man's estate, he will probably 
 have a dollar or two, " said the " Prince, " who was 
 perfectly satisfied with his son. 
 
 If perfection can have degrees, the mother was, 
 in Harold York's eyes, a degree more perfect than 
 the baby; but he was more than content with both. 
 And so the " Prince " taught his son to talk. He had 
 a bright pupil and his own patience was endless; and 
 when the little fellow had learned to talk, what a 
 chatterbox he was. He talked incessantly to him 
 self, if he couldn't find any one else to talk to. But 
 he was not favorably disposed towards this self-com 
 munion ; he preferred to have an audience. 
 
 One afternoon the baby sat on the broad arm of 
 a rocking-chair, in which his mother was sitting; his 
 
 334
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 little feet were in her lap, and she was giving his 
 father a rather animated and earnest account of some 
 thing which interested her. The child moved rest 
 lessly about, and finally, unable to endure the agony 
 any longer, he leaned forward and, putting his be- 
 dimpled hand over his mother's lips, he said, " Ex 
 cuse me, Mamma; but please be still and let me talk, 
 now. " 
 
 Then he rushed in and expressed his opinions 
 about the subject of converse. 
 
 The " Prince " could not restrain his delight. 
 So he walked to the window and while he was look 
 ing out upon the street, he laughed to his heart's con 
 tent. After the child had finished his remarks the 
 father said, " How fortunate it is that I am a good 
 listener; otherwise I am afraid we would have to 
 import a few. " 
 
 The child grew in beauty and intelligence ; he was 
 his father's companion and his mother's little lover. 
 As soon as the boy could walk he went out almost 
 daily with his father, and the "Prince" would say: 
 " Now, my son, can you think of anything Mamma 
 would like? If so, we must buy it and take it home. 
 We must always remember Mamma; for there is no 
 one on all the earth like her. " 
 
 No walk did these two take, from which they 
 did not, each of them, bring Ola some trifle. The 
 child had the most pronounced opinions upon all 
 subjects, but he always spoke with the most scrupu 
 lous politeness. In short, while many of his charac- 
 
 335
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 teristics were tike those of his mother, he aped, to 
 perfection, the courtly manners and worshipful words 
 of praise adopted by his father. 
 
 The " Prince " and his wife had never occupied 
 the same rooms. All of Harold York's conduct 
 towards Ola, while of the tenderest, most affectionate 
 nature, was sufficiently patrician, royal even, to justify 
 the title of " Prince, " by which his wife always ad 
 dressed him. He frequently would send one of the 
 servants to ask Ola if she could receive him for a 
 few moments. This, of course, if she were engaged 
 with a dressmaker, or not very well, or if from any 
 cause she might prefer not to be disturbed. 
 
 When little Adrian was not more than five years 
 old he also took up this ceremonious trick of request 
 ing an interview with his mother. He had seldom 
 seen her in a state of even partial undress. One after 
 noon when the boy was about seven years old, he 
 rushed into his mother's apartments. Ola was dress 
 ing for dinner. Her beautiful black hair hung over her 
 bare arms and shoulders, and her silk skirt fell close 
 around her limbs. For the first time in his life, the 
 child seemed conscious of the beauty of the female 
 form. For a single instant he stood transfixed, his 
 red lips partly open and his beautiful eyes ablaze. 
 
 "Oh, Mamma! Mamma!" he cried; then ran up 
 to his mother, jumped lightly on a chair near which 
 she stood, threw his little arms around her and bend 
 ing his black head down, he kissed her white throat 
 and neck, again and again, first on one side then on 
 the other. Then he rubbed his little face up against 
 
 336
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 hers and exclaimed, " You dear girl, you are just as 
 sweet as you can be!" 
 
 Ola unclasped the little hands and, holding him 
 at arm's length, said, " My son, my son, where did 
 you ever hear that expression?" 
 
 " What expression, Mamma? " 
 
 " Do you remember the words you used to me 
 just now 7 " 
 
 " Why, yes ! I said, ' You dear girl, you are just 
 as sweet as you can be. ' And so you are. " 
 
 "Did you ever hear anybody say those words?" 
 
 " Not that I know of. Is there anything so very 
 remarkable about the sentence, Mamma?" 
 
 " No, dear, no, " said Ola. But in spite of all she 
 could do, there was a sorrowful tone to the words, 
 " No, dear, no. " 
 
 " If you don't like the expression, Mamma, or 
 if it makes you feel sad, you have only to tell me so, 
 and I will not make use of it again. " But all this 
 time the boy patted and kissed his mother; drew her 
 black hair over her white breast and blew it back 
 again ; turned his little head to one side, looked at 
 her, then down on the floor, and laughed that low, 
 rippling, Adrian Benners' laugh, which always car 
 ried Ola so far back into the past. 
 
 She put her arms around the child and held him 
 close to her heart. Sadly enough she said to him, 
 " Oh, my son, my son ! What kind of man are you 
 going to be? " 
 
 337
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 "I? Why, I'm going to be a very prince of good 
 fellows, " said the child. 
 
 " Tell me about it, dear, " said the mother. 
 
 " Well, in the first place, I'm going to have the 
 most perfect steam yacht that ever was built " 
 
 " I suppose you know that all those luxuries will 
 cost a great deal of money, " interrupted the mother. 
 
 " Oh, yes, I know that," said the child, noncha 
 lantly. 
 
 " And where is all this money to come from, 
 pray?" 
 
 "Why, hasn't papa got a few millions? and am 
 I not his only child?" said Adrian, as if he could 
 scarcely account for his mother's senseless query. 
 
 " It is true that papa is rich now, but he might 
 not be when you are a man. When I first knew papa 
 he was a comparatively poor man. " 
 
 "That may be ; but he will never be poor again, '' 
 said the child, confidently. 
 
 "How do you know this?" said Ola; and she 
 wondered how the little brain had arrived at this 
 confident and comforting conclusion. 
 
 " He is too conservative ever to lose his money, '' 
 said the boy. Ola thought that if she had had her 
 eyes shut, she should have imagined herself to be 
 talking with a man of forty ; and she could not repress 
 a smile. She intended never to let the boy know she 
 was laughing at him. Both she and her husband al 
 ways encouraged Adrian to express his opinions upon 
 any and all subjects with the most perfect freedom; 
 and he had opinions upon any subject he had ever 
 
 338
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 heard discussed, from nebula to bonbons. By this 
 course of treatment the child was about the most con 
 ceited little piece of masculinity of seven years of 
 age, that ever lived. 
 
 " Explain to me what you mean when you say 
 your father is too conservative ever to lose his 
 money? " 
 
 " I will, Mamma, but first come over to this 
 couch and let us sit down. I fear I shall tire you 
 by keeping you standing so long. " 
 
 When they were seated, the child went on to 
 say : " You remember, not very long ago, I had an 
 engagement with papa at his office for three o'clock. 
 It was the time the ' Prince ' " the child frequently 
 called his father the ' Prince ' "bought that bronze 
 Psyche with the wounded Cupid, for you, and he 
 wanted to get my opinion of it." 
 
 " You and his Highness seem to be quite intimate. 
 If one were not timid about applying such an expres 
 sion to royalty, one might almost say you two are 
 chummy, " said the mother. 
 
 The boy laughed another Lieutenant Benners' 
 laugh, drew his mother's arm around his neck and 
 said with an air of nonchalant importance, " It must 
 be admitted, that Papa and I are not alone the best of 
 friends, but I really think he depends considerably 
 upon my judgment, especially in matters of art. Papa 
 says I was born with an educated eye. " 
 
 " I am afraid your papa is blindly partial to you, 
 but tell me why you think him so conservative. " 
 
 " Very well ; as I was saying, the appointment 
 339
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 was for three. You know how particular Papa is 
 that everybody shall be exact at a rendezvous? Well, 
 Monsieur Chausson" Monsieur Chausson was the 
 child's professor, or rather, one of them, for Adrian 
 had several " Well, Monsieur Chausson has a per 
 fect mania for starting about half-a-hour too soon. So 
 this day when we got to Papa's office we were com 
 pelled to wait a full half-hour for him to come in. 
 In the outside office I heard two gentlemen talking. 
 One said, 'Who is that child?' 
 
 " The other answered, ' That's York's son. ' 
 
 "'Hump!' said the first. 'He's likely to be a 
 pretty rich man, is he not? York must be worth at 
 least a couple of millions now, and he's making money 
 all the time. ' 
 
 " ' If he don't up and lose it one of these fine 
 days.' Put in the other. 
 
 "'Lose it? Not much. You don't know York; 
 he is one of the most conservative fellows on the 
 Street. He puts every investment he makes under a 
 microscope. You bring him any scheme you think 
 >ou know all about, and he will ask you one-hundred- 
 and-fifty questions you can't answer. York will be 
 the last man on the Street to go broke. ' 
 
 " That, you see, Mamma, is how I came to know 
 the care papa takes with his business operations. For, 
 although the other man said, ' Just the same he 
 might bite off more than he can chew, ' I am inclined 
 to believe Papa will never lose his fortune. While 
 I should feel sorry for him, and for you, if he were to 
 become poor for I don't know what he would do, 
 
 340
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 were he deprived of the pleasure of skimming the 
 cream off all the earth for you still, for myself, I do 
 not think it would make such a great deal of dif 
 ference. " And the child pushed his mother's head 
 down on the pillow of the couch, drew her arm around 
 his neck, and fell again to kissing her. 
 
 " You don't think it would make such a great 
 deal of difference to you? How about that most per 
 fect steam yacht that was ever built? " said Ola, look 
 ing fondly at her boy. 
 
 " Oh, of course, in the event of being respectably 
 poor, I should have to give up the yacht; but I should 
 not allow that to make me unhappy. I should get 
 Congress to give me a commission in the navy, and in 
 cruising around, and taking in all the good things 
 that would naturally come along, I think I could get 
 through life without much friction. " 
 
 Ola laughed ; she could not help it. And, gently 
 pinching the child's red lips, she said. " Oh, you dar 
 ling little reprobate ! You have it all arranged, have 
 you not? " 
 
 " Yes, I have it all arranged, Mamma, but not in 
 that way. I do not intend to allow myself to think 
 of Papa's losing his money. I want to enjoy every 
 thing I can. I often think I am so glad I am alive. 
 I shall have the yacht, perfectly equipped, and we will 
 cruise around whenever and wherever we like, and 
 take lots of charming girls with us. " 
 
 '" I see ; I see ; you have the stuff in you of which 
 naval officers are made, " and again there was a tone 
 of sorrow in Ola's voice. 
 
 341
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 For a wonder, the child seemed not to notice it, 
 but chatted gaily on. " I shall want you and Papa 
 and Aunt Nell and Uncle Jack and those charming 
 girls I spoke of before. " 
 
 " I infer, from the way you speak, that you do not 
 consider me and Aunt Nell charming. " 
 
 " Oh, now, Mamma ; That's too bad ! You know 
 there is nobody on earth like you; but then you see 
 you are my mother, and I suppose a fellow might be 
 excused for occasionally thinking of some other girl 
 than his mother. " 
 
 " Well, I think I shall have to acknowledge that 
 you are right, so far as I am concerned; but how 
 about Aunt Nell?" 
 
 "Aunt Nell? Oh, she's serviceable in many 
 ways. I never shall forget how skillfully she ban 
 daged my ankle the time I got that cruel wrench on 
 Papa's yacht. For arnica bandages, Aunt Nell has 
 a most pronounced talent; and she can read marine 
 stories to a fellow to perfection. But, Mamma, even 
 you must admit that she is getting a trifle passee ; be 
 sides, she is hopelessly in love with Uncle Jack ; and 
 such a state of affairs as that is apt to make a 
 woman a wee bit uniteresting to one who is strictly 
 on the outside. " 
 
 Laughing quietly, and squeezing her boy to her 
 heart, Ola exclaimed, " Was there ever such another 
 child born into the world?" 
 
 How his blue eyes shone with delight at the 
 praise! for he so construed his mother's remarks. 
 But he put his hand over her mouth, and, while he 
 
 342
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 kissed her cheeks, first one and then the other, he 
 exclaimed, " Hush ! You mustn't be a flatterer, little 
 Mamma. " 
 
 Then he went on chattering about the things he 
 would do on the yacht, when he should have become 
 a man. He ended by saying: "That's the way of it, 
 Mamma. You and Aunt Nell and Uncle Jack are 
 first, of course; for a fellow must occasionally think 
 of the sprained ankles and the sober hours of life, but 
 I shall surround myself with a sprinkling of the flip 
 pant and frivolous, just by way of variety. " 
 
 Her son's aptitude for worldliness and worldly 
 pleasures had awakened a mournful echo in his 
 mother's heart. She gently rubbed the rebellious 
 black hair, and there were tears in her own eyes as 
 she looked into the blue depths of those of her son, 
 and said to him with a seriousness she had never used 
 with him before, " Yes, dear, even the gayest of 
 us must occasionally think of the sober hours of life. 
 There was once a young man, handsome, happy, be 
 loved of all. He was as full of the joy of living, as 
 you are to-day; he was affectionate and sympathetic; 
 he thought of being gay, to the full extent that tem 
 perance would allow. When his friends laughed, he 
 laughed with them ; but when they wept, he let them 
 weep alone. He, like you, intended to take, to the 
 full, every joy life offered; and he appreciated the 
 flippant and frivolous, if they were pleasant, more 
 than he did the sincere, if they were exacting. In the 
 company of his laughing friends, a great sorrow over 
 took him. His body, which had been such a joy to 
 
 343
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 him, was racked and distorted with pain, and he 
 knew there was no hope for him that death, and 
 death alone, could relieve him." 
 
 " Don't, Mamma, don't ! I know you are talking of 
 Lieutenant Benners, and I really cannot bear it, for 
 I love him so much. It seems to me I have always 
 known, always loved, and always belonged to Lieu 
 tenant Benners. I suppose, Mamma, it couldn't be 
 possible for a child to have two fathers?" 
 
 " No, dear, no. Why do you ask such a ques 
 tion?" 
 
 The boy was silent for a moment; and then, 
 stroking his mother's hair, he went on, " Of course 
 it's just as silly as it possibly can be, but I never can 
 feel that Lieutenant Benners is not something more 
 than a friend to me. One day, when he and I were 
 alone, he called me his son; and those words, from 
 him, made me feel so happy. Of course it is 
 nothing very unusual for Papa's friends to call me 
 ' my son, ' but when Lieutenant Benners said ' my 
 son/ to me, just as quick as I could, I kissed him 
 for it. I think if Lieutenant Benners were not lame, 
 he and I would be inseparable. " 
 
 Ola shook her head sadly; and in answer to the 
 boy's inquiring look, she said, " I fear, my son, you 
 are indebted to that very lameness for the Lieu 
 tenant's love. " 
 
 At this remark the child looked grieved, and his 
 mother consoled him as best she might, by saying, 
 " Be thankful, my boy, for that which gives you hap 
 piness, and do not question it too closely. Be 
 
 344
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 thoughtful, in every way you can, for the comfort of 
 your friends. There is, perhaps, nothing in life, which 
 gives so much happiness as to love, and especially to 
 love those who need it. " 
 
 Both mother and child were silent for a time; 
 the maid had entered the room, lit the gas and gone 
 out again; while Ola, speaking to her boy, seemed 
 to continue the thought, for she went on, " There 
 was a time, my pet, when I needed love and sympathy 
 and encouragement, more, perhaps, than any woman 
 ever needed it in this world. In those days the Fates 
 sent your princely father to me. From the first hour 
 I ever knew him in fact, long before I had any 
 suspicion of the truth my welfare and happiness be 
 came his charge. He revived my faith in humanity, 
 convinced me that all true happiness, and all human 
 excellence are conceived in true love." 
 
 A slight noise, almost like a sob, attracted the 
 attention of Ola and the boy; and, turning towards 
 the place whence the sound came, they saw the 
 " Prince " standing in the door. 
 
 "How long have you been eavesdropping?" said 
 Ola, and she confusedly drew her negligee over her 
 shoulders. 
 
 Adrian, as though he were unwilling to share, 
 even with his father, the view of his mother's beau 
 tiful shoulders, drew the covering up close under her 
 chin, kissed her lips, then bounded lightly off the 
 couch and skipped away to his father. 
 
 " Long enough to prove the falsity of the old 
 adage that ' Listeners never hear any good of them- 
 
 345
 
 selves,' " and the " Prince " started to go to his wife. 
 
 But, tugging at his father's hand and pulling him 
 towards the door, the child said, " Goodness ! I've 
 lain there so long my legs are stiff. I'll take a spin 
 around the block with you, Papa, and we really must 
 let Mamma dress. I have kept her there so long al 
 ready that she will be sick with a cold. Put on the 
 black dress, with the "sang-de-boeuf" ribbons, 
 Mamma, and I'll bring you some jack roses. I am 
 sorry you don't like the fragrance; but you'll wear 
 them, for my sake, won't you ? " 
 
 The boy kissed his hand to his mother, and 
 forced his father to accompany him, leaving that 
 mother to her bitter-sweet reflections, while she 
 donned the black dress, with the " sang-de-boeuf " rib 
 bons, and fastened the garnets the " Prince " had 
 bought when they were in France, around her wrists 
 and in her black hair. 
 
 " ' Men are only boys grown tall,' " she said to 
 herself, as she passed in review all the little, lover-like 
 actions of her son. Only a few more years, and the 
 genial, joyous temperament of the boy would be 
 joined to the passion of the man, and her son would 
 go forth on his mission of slaughtering the innocent. 
 If no accident were to befall the child, he was destined 
 to do much harm, for he was a unit of dangerous com 
 pounds. While he could extract joy from it, Adrian 
 would always love and fondle that which would give 
 him pleasure. But Ola was afraid he would never 
 watch his hour in Gethsemane, even with those he 
 loved most of all. 
 
 346
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 The career of Lieutenant Benners this mother 
 saw mapped out for her own child. Everything 
 pointed to it his alarming popularity, his brilliant 
 wit, his wealth all these would contribute toward 
 the constant heaping upon him of love. They would 
 bring about the surrender of other wills to his own. 
 With that selfishness which only a mother can feel 
 Ola prayed : " Since women must be deceived and 
 wronged and deserted, while ever the world is in 
 habited by the two sexes, let him be what he must, 
 let him be a second Lieutenant Benners, but spare 
 my son, oh, God, the bitter draught at the end of the 
 sweets which has been forced upon the red lips of 
 Lieutenant Benners!" 
 
 The woman's mind was full of gloomy reflections. 
 Could she never outlive the past? Had Fate itself 
 willed that in her own child, she must suffer eternal 
 remorse of conscience? With her husband and boy 
 gone on a mission of love for her, this mother thought 
 of the utter unsatisfactoriness of human life and the 
 constant acknowledgment we must make of our own 
 frailties. 
 
 The " Prince " had centered his affections upon 
 her, and his actions had furnished a perfect model of 
 a pure, affectionate, self-ignoring husband. In the 
 early days, when he had learned to love the ideal he 
 had of her, he had consecrated himself to her. All 
 his love was hers ; all his money was hers ; he worked 
 for her, lived for her, and he was perfectly happy 
 with her. Pure and undefiled, he walked through all. 
 The intrigues of women who wanted his money had 
 
 347
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 no effect on him; theirs were worse than wasted 
 efforts. He had never swerved one hair's breath from 
 his holy allegiance to her, and she knew this. He 
 worshiped her; thought her chaste as a sexless 
 angel; and she? ' W'hat was she?' she asked herself. 
 
 ' Clay ! the poorest, cheapest, commonest clay ! 
 She had never been worthy of the ' Prince ' for one 
 hour.' 
 
 She did not deceive herself; she knew that all 
 which protected her husband from wrong, all that 
 saved his couch from defilement, was an accident, the 
 result of which was the physical wreckage of Lieu 
 tenant Benners. Had the Lieutenant returned to 
 America in full strength and health, he would have 
 clasped the " Prince's " hand cordially, as a brother, 
 drunk his wine and partaken of his hospitality, at one 
 and the same time in which he was calling forth that 
 part of Ola's nature which had never responded to 
 any voice but his. This she knew would have hap 
 pened but for the circumstance which had rendered 
 it impossible. 
 
 And yet she did not despise the Lieutenant. She 
 was honest enough to acknowledge that if such con 
 duct in him would have been devoid of honor, there 
 were no words, in any language, of sufficient force and 
 pertinence, to describe her own acts. True, the 
 " Prince " was the Lieutenant's friend, and had felt 
 for the young man almost the affection Jonathan had 
 for David. But what had her husband been to her? 
 
 " So goes the world, " she said. " The holy and 
 undefiled bring their gifts to an altar polluted with 
 
 348
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 sensualities. To the extremely-limited few are noble 
 actions possible ; and even then, they are perhaps 
 more attributable to characteristics of temperament 
 which are congenital, rather than to any growth in 
 virtue. " 
 
 Her son bounded into the room, followed by his 
 father. 
 
 " Oh, Mamma ! You are just the dearest girl ! 
 That is the prettiest dress you've got. You always 
 know just what to do to make us happy. Instinc 
 tively you have put on your garnets ; and I have jack 
 roses and lilies of the valley, and Papa has some of 
 the most beautiful long gold pins, with garnet heads, 
 with which to fasten those flowers on, that ever you 
 saw. Give me the pins, if you please, Papa, and I 
 will see if I can give an artfully artless touch to 
 this decoration of the Princess of the House of York. f> 
 
 The " Prince " gave his son the pins and looked 
 on with a pleased smile while the boy pulled one 
 blossom out here, pushed another in there, bent a 
 sprig of green a little more to the angle he fancied, 
 turned his little head to one side, walked back a few 
 steps, returned to his mother, made a slight altera 
 tion, looked at his work in a most approving fashion, 
 kissed his mother rapturously, stepped down from 
 the stool and exclaimed, " Now, Papa ! " 
 
 The " Prince " came up to his wife. With a smile 
 of the purest, most affectionate worship on his face, 
 he placed his soft, tender hands on her cheeks, pressed 
 a light kiss on her lips, and said, " Oh, my little 
 wife, how I do love you ! " 
 
 349
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 And thus those three of the House of York pass 
 their lives. The " Prince " is happy in the possession 
 of the woman he loves. And Ola? Well, she loves 
 her husband, as she has ever loved him. Before 
 she married him, she had joyed in the thought that 
 one man lived above the lusts of the flesh, and that 
 she, by a miracle of good fortune, possessed the love 
 of that man. Nothing of the passion she had always 
 felt for Lieutenant Benners ever found place in the 
 love she gave her husband. She never wished things 
 were different; for she knew that fierce passions are 
 allied to mania. If' the Fates had spared Lieutenant 
 Benners his great sorrow, and she had known he was 
 happy in a foreign land, she could have asked nothing 
 more of Heaven. 
 
 350
 
 CHAPTER XXXI. 
 
 We still dwell in your midst; but here present our 
 selves to you for a last farewell. 
 
 As that worst of all cannibals, Old Father Time, 
 devours his own children, in the subjective and ob 
 jective worlds of the people who have marched and 
 counter-marched before us, there is enacted tragedy, 
 comedy, burlesque. To them the pictures come and 
 go. For them the curtain is rung up, and rung down. 
 Thus it is, and thus it must be until their hands are 
 folded in death. What pictures may come to them 
 after that, who shall dare to aver. 
 
 The " Banker " still keeps on in the monotonous 
 round of his business; still takes that nightly cold 
 bath, rubbing off with a coarse towel; still flatters 
 himself that he looks young. But, were you standing 
 near him, you could detect that the bald spot on the 
 crown of his head is slowly but surely spreading. He 
 notices that, too, but what of it? Plenty of men are 
 bald at twenty-five or thirty, he says, surely he has a 
 right to be at fifty-five. 
 
 Will he marry again? Perhaps; who can tell? 
 He often thinks of Ola. The " Banker " is a Christian, 
 that has been said before but when he looks so 
 self-complacently at himself, and reflects upon the 
 wealth with which the " Prince " has endowed his 
 wife, he says, " These ambitious women may have 
 souls, but they have no hearts. York could out-bid 
 
 351
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 me, that was all. " 
 
 Then he reflects, with a truly Christian satis 
 faction, that Ola, being an Atheist, should not be 
 grudged all that wealth can give in this world, since 
 there is a mighty uncomfortable enternity blocked out 
 for her. Please understand distinctly the Christian 
 satisfaction which the " Banker " feels is that Ola is 
 so happy in this world, not that she will be miserable 
 in the next. But it is utterly useless to call attention 
 to what gives the " Banker " Christian satisfaction ; 
 since to be pleased at the thought that her beautiful 
 black hair may be signed off close, and cause a dread 
 fully unpleasant odor to penetrate to the remotest 
 corners of Sheol, while she writhes and twists in agony, 
 cannot be Christian ; and the " Banker " is a Chris 
 tian, he has said to himself, and surely he ought to 
 know. 
 
 Well, he is marching on to Heaven; wish him 
 God-speed. 
 
 The " Pirate " still "noses and snooks around the 
 studios ; " still grows richer and richer on the mis 
 fortunes of others; still dresses as shoddily as ever; 
 his face is still blistered and blotched with salt- 
 rheum ; he still keeps, day in and day out, his art ( ?) 
 store on the Bowery. 
 
 His daughters, when old enough, were obliged to 
 " fall to " and support themselves. There is one de 
 lusive dream, however, which the " Pirate " has ban 
 ished from his mind. He has no further wish 
 to marry a " lady." They come too high to 
 suit him. He never could get over Will Fal- 
 
 352
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 Ion's being killed while owing his all that money. 
 With big, ungainly shoes covering his " niggery " feet, 
 with his " kneey " trousers, his " elbowy " coats, 
 shoddy new, or shiny old ; with his slatternly, slovenly 
 housekeeper, steeped and saturated with the odors of 
 the cooking that are wafted down the dark and dusty 
 stairs of his home on the Bowery, he will live and 
 hoard the pennies, until his heirs put him in a cheap 
 coffin, cart him off to his last resting place, and 
 amidst the astonishment they feel at the fortune he 
 left, condemn him that he did not leave more. 
 
 Thus will the unfortunates upon whom he grew 
 rich, be avenged. 
 
 Ned St. Claire is ever and ever the same dear, 
 good brother to Ola. Age adds a wrinkle here and 
 there, but that kind heart of his will remain forever 
 young. No church will ever canonize St. Claire; but 
 if there be a Book of Eternal Life, surely his name 
 is written therein. Surely the bright spirits on that 
 other shore, who were once sorrowing mortals here, 
 and whom he cheered as best he could, will be ad 
 vised of his release, and will hasten to meet the boat 
 which bears him to that happy country, that they may 
 give their old friend a most hearty welcome home. 
 
 At Mr. York's elegant home Ned drops in when 
 ever he pleases, and is always welcome. This luxury 
 is for Ola, hence he is glad it is. But if Ned should 
 one day stand beside a coffin in which rested the death- 
 chilled body of Ola Del-York, he would say to him 
 self, " Poor girl ! she always called me her brother, 
 but" 
 
 353
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 Then he would go reverently away; and, as he 
 had so often done before, he would have his dark hour 
 alone. Throughout his life long will he cheer and 
 comfort and encourage others; before death and 
 through eternity, may God send some good angel to 
 cheer and comfort him. 
 
 Mr. Cameron was transferred to another vessel, 
 and he is now in foreign lands. He leads much the 
 same old life, loves the ladies a little, in return for the 
 good deal they love him. Among his portable posses 
 sions there is a package of letters from a woman. Be 
 tween the folds of these letters there slumbers a tiny 
 water-color head of a woman. As he looks at this lit 
 tle token of the past, he remembers that he stole it 
 from her desk. He feels no remorse for this pecula 
 tion. Submissively he says, " She was the Jim Dandy 
 girl, I tell you ! and I got dreadfully broke up over her. 
 My, how those heavenly grey eyes of hers used to 
 look at me! Ola, you were just the cream of all the 
 sex, and no mistake; but another fellow's got you. 
 Well! Well! there's one consolation; Benners didn't 
 get you. " 
 
 The Captain of the " Grant " is a great man. He 
 knows it, and this greatness makes him as uncomfort 
 able as he makes other people. " Uneasy rests the 
 head that wears a crown, " and snubbed, chilled, re 
 pressed, is he or she who strives to hobnob with 
 royalty. Who can blame royalty for getting even on 
 somebody for the headaches and heartaches that are 
 entailed with the purple? If, -in the hereafter, ail 
 men and all women, too are captains in some navy, 
 
 354
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 we will extend our hands to the Captain of the 
 " Grant " in the most perfect good fellowship, and sit 
 down to officers' mess together. 
 
 Captain Gordon's wife at last morphined herself 
 to death, and the Captain married " Bronze. " Poor 
 man ! give him your sympathy and prayers. He 
 taught " Bronze " deception, and now the fear that 
 she may decieve him has become the bane of his ex 
 istence. 
 
 As the years go on, " Bronze " is growing fat and 
 matronly. She takes this good naturedly, as she does 
 everything. She and Ola have drifted apart. They 
 speak and are pleasant when they meet, but they are 
 not intimate. 
 
 And Nell, sunny-haired, little Nell? She still 
 runs up and down the steps of the stations of the ele 
 vated road, dragging her skirts in the mud. She 
 still does low-grade art works, and keeps the dealers 
 mindful that she is a " business woman " by remind 
 ing them to " send check for work done last month. " 
 She still wishes that Jack had some practical, good 
 common-sense. But since he has not, and is not likely 
 to have, she loves him as he is. Ola and Nell are the 
 warmest and best of friends. Nell was always the 
 " Prince's " staunch ally ; for that perhaps she de 
 serves little credit, since he was steadfastly kind to 
 her, and never a trouble. 
 
 But that her love for Ola never wavered an in 
 stant during all the days of Lieutenant Benners' reign, 
 notwithstanding that all of Ola's actions at this time 
 were in direct contradiction to Nell's own principles, 
 
 355
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 made Ola say to her friend the night they were both 
 married, " Darling, we will never speak of him again. 
 Your love has been made precious beyond price to me, 
 for you have taught me that a good, pure, woman will 
 not hold herself aloof frorn her friend, will not walk 
 by on the other side, through fear of contamination, 
 but will stand watching and waiting for the hour when 
 a cup of cold water given in love's name shall revive 
 the dying. You, who are always good and pure, have 
 not loved me because of my virtues, but in spite of my 
 sins. " 
 
 " Oh, yes, I'm the kind we read of in books, Ola, 
 but seldom see, " said Nell, making a burlesque of this, 
 as of everything else. But she wiped the tears out of 
 her eyes, and gave her friend a good squeeze and a 
 hearty kiss. 
 
 Over the House of York Ola reigns. She is be 
 loved by her husband and her friends. She has never 
 become famous. Among local artists she is spoken of 
 as having done some clever things. Art will share the 
 homage due it with none ; and Ola never gave such 
 undivided allegiance, such concentration, such devo 
 tion to her work, as to receive the desired crown. 
 
 But her husband bound himself to have no other 
 gods before her, and he has made her rich, very rich. 
 If strangers ask Harold York to invest money in an 
 enterprise he answeres, " I am an investor of the 
 money of others. I make it a rule not to put my own 
 money in, for I know that self-interest warps a man's 
 judgment. I must either not handle any money be 
 longing to others, or I must keep all interest, other 
 
 356
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 than a broker's commission, out of the transaction. " 
 
 But to Lieutenant Benners, Ned St. Claire, or 
 Nell and Jack, he has been known to say : " I have no 
 money. My wife has a little, and I sometimes give her 
 a word or two of advice as to its investment; but 
 personally, I am not worth ten thousand dollars." 
 
 And it is true; he has lived for her, worked for 
 her, centered all his whole soul upon her. 
 
 Ola once said to him, " Are you not afraid I may 
 skip to Canada with all this money?" 
 
 " No darling, " he said, " I am not afraid of it. 
 But it would make no difference if you did. Were T, 
 from any cause, to lose you, I would have little 
 enough use for money after that." 
 
 How characteristic of the man his answer was. 
 He was anxious to get money, to get a great deal 
 of it ; but only to have Ola spend it. 
 
 It fills his soul with proud satisfaction to have his 
 wife the most elegant of all who gather around her. 
 Their home is ever open to artists, musicians, literary 
 people; good talkers and good thinkers. And, intro 
 duced by Lieutenant Benners, who always retained a 
 fondness for his brother-officers, a plentiful sprink 
 ling of naval officers are frequently intermixed. 
 
 And so the years go on. 
 
 Oftentimes in the evening as Lieutenant Benners, 
 alone in his rooms, rests on his couch, with his beau 
 tiful eyes protected from the glare of the lamp by the 
 soft, silken shade, a heavenly picture floats before him. 
 
 He is once more an officer on the " Grant, " in 
 full health and strength. His vessel is entering the 
 
 357
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 harbor of New York, he stands on the deck, and 
 a sharp wind is blowing in his face, but he does not 
 mind it, does not even feel it. It is " his night off, " 
 and as soon as the boat touches the pier, he will step 
 ashore and go " up town. " When he turns the cor 
 ner of the street in which she lives, he will look up at 
 the window for the beacon. 
 
 It is burning brightly, and his heart warms within 
 him. What are storms to him? It never blows too 
 hard to keep him from going ashore, for at the end 
 his wife is watching for him. He will ring the bell 
 when he gets to the front door, for she knows his 
 ring among a thousand. Then he will open the lower 
 door with his key, but before he can reach the mid 
 dle landing on the stairs, his beautiful, rollicking son 
 will be clambering upon him, and chattering more 
 knots a minute than the fastest clipper ever made in 
 a week. 
 
 At the hall door his wife will meet him, and give 
 him the welcome that only a woman who loves, can 
 give. He will hold her in his arms and say, " You dear 
 girl, I am so glad to get home! " 
 
 Then they will go into the parlor, which will be 
 strewn with tokens of her work and study. An easel 
 is there, and upon it rests a pastel of himself, done by 
 his wife. He knows that when he is absent she looks 
 upon it, her large grey-black eyes filled with a love 
 light, 'as she thinks of him and the beauty and purity 
 of his soul. She rejoices that he loves her, and more 
 yet, that he has never loved any other woman. He 
 knows that when it storms wildly, she alternately 
 
 358
 
 A STORY OF THE STUDIOS 
 
 watches her sleeping child, who is such a picture in 
 the flesh of his father, and presses her dark hair 
 against the window pane, and in an agony of soul 
 which needs an Omnipotence for reliance and com 
 fort, she stultifies the conclusions of her reason, by 
 crying aloud : " Bring him safely back to me, oh, 
 God ! he is all I have. " 
 
 Then she will tell him of the work she has been 
 doing while he has been away. And almost before 
 they know it, the evening has crawled deep into the 
 night. His son, having stretched out his shapely 
 limbs on the couch, has fallen asleep. His wife is 
 telling him with what keen delight she notices that 
 the child grows day by day more like him. Then he- 
 will say, " You dear girl ! You are such a little 
 flatterer ! Come here and kiss your old man. " 
 
 Then he will pull the pins out of that rippling 
 black hair and see it all tumble down. He will un 
 fasten hooks here and there, and watch her blush as 
 he kisses her white throat. She will throw her arms 
 around his neck and say, " Oh, my love, my love ! 
 Have you been true to me since we have been 
 separated 7 " 
 
 Then he will say, " Yes, dear, I have, and that is 
 as true as the truth ever was. " 
 
 And the completeness of his joy with his wife 
 and child, and the modest establishment which his 
 salary will support, are not surpassed, not equalled by 
 any nabob of the earth. 
 
 The heavenly picture vanishes. 
 
 The clock on his mantle strikes ; it is midnight. 
 359
 
 THAT MAN FROM WALL STREET 
 
 The sleet and hail beat against the window and 
 freeze on the panes. There is a settled look of sor 
 row in his beautiful eyes, as, with the aid of his stout 
 staff, he moves about the room preparing to go to 
 rest. Everything is changed. Even his injunction to 
 do this or that, that you may live the longer, of which 
 he was once so fond, has lost its pertinence to him. 
 All the flowers of promise upon which his vigorous 
 manhood had counted to unfold into beauty, were 
 nipped and frosted in the bud. 
 
 One alone, opened by the light and warmth of 
 his disposition, bloomed for a brief hour; then, chilled 
 by his treatment of it, closed its leaves again. From 
 Ola's love there remains but her friendship, for which 
 he is indeed not ungrateful. 
 
 THE END. 
 
 360
 
 DATE DUE 
 
 GAYLORD 
 
 PRINTED IN U S
 
 UC SOUTHERN REGIONAL LIBRARY FACILITY 
 
 A A 000269141