And then, with one more look at her pitiful face of
misery, he turned and went away, without even touching
her hand.
CHAPTER VIII
It was now well on in May, and most of the people
of Montague’s acquaintance had moved out to
their country places; and those who were chained to
their desks had yachts or automobiles or private cars,
and made the trip into the country every afternoon.
Montague was invited to spend another week at Eldridge
Devon’s, where Alice had been for a week; but
he could not spare the time until Saturday afternoon,
when he made the trip up the Hudson in Devon’s
new three-hundred-foot steam-yacht, the Triton.
Some unkind person had described Devon to Montague
as “a human yawn”; but he appeared to
have a very keen interest in life that Saturday afternoon.
He had been seized by a sudden conviction that a new
and but little advertised automobile had proven its
superiority to any of the seventeen cars which he
at present maintained in his establishment. He
had got three of these new cars, and while Montague
sat upon the quarter-deck of the Triton and gazed
at the magnificent scenery of the river, he had in
his ear the monotonous hum of Devon’s voice,
discussing annular ball-bearings and water-jacketed
cylinders.
One of the new cars met them at Devon’s private
pier, and swept them over the hill to the mansion.
The Devon place had never looked more wonderful to
Montague than it did just then, with fruit trees in
full blossom, and the wonder of springtime upon everything.
For miles about one might see hillsides that were
one unbroken stretch of luscious green lawn.
But alas, Eldridge Devon had no interest in these
hills, except to pursue a golf-ball over them.
Montague never felt more keenly the pitiful quality
of the people among whom he found himself than when
he stood upon the portico of this house—a
portico huge enough to belong to some fairy palace
in a dream—and gazed at the sweeping vista
of the Hudson over the heads of Mrs. Billy Alden and
several of her cronies, playing bridge.
* * *
After luncheon, he went for a stroll with Alice, and
she told him how she had been passing the time.
“Young Curtiss was here for a couple of days,”
she said.
“General Prentice’s nephew?” he
asked.
“Yes. He told me he had met you,”
said she. “What do you think of him?”
“He struck me as a sensible chap,” said
Montague.
“I like him very much,” said Alice.
“I think we shall be friends. He is interesting
to talk to; you know he was in a militia regiment
that went to Cuba, and also he’s been a cowboy,
and all sorts of exciting things. We took a walk
the other morning, and he told me some of his adventures.
They say he’s quite a successful lawyer.”
“He is in a very successful firm,” said
Montague. “And he’d hardly have got
there unless he had ability.”
“He’s a great friend of Laura Hegan’s,”
said Alice. “She was over here to spend
the day. She doesn’t approve of many people,
so that is a compliment.”
Copyrights
The Moneychangers from Project Gutenberg. Public domain.
