Mr. Eliphalet Hopper, in his Sunday-best broadcloth was a marvel of propriety.  It seemed to Stephen that his face wore a graver expression on Sunday when he met him standing on Miss Crane’s doorstep, picking the lint from his coat.  Stephen’s intention was not to speak.  But he remembered what the Judge had said to his mother, and nodded.  Why, indeed, should he put on airs with this man who had come to St. Louis unknown and unrecommended and poor, who by sheer industry had made himself of importance in the large business of Carvel &, Company?  As for Stephen Brice, he was not yet earning his salt, but existing by the charity of Judge Silas Whipple.

“Howdy, Mr. Brice,” said Mr. Hopper, his glance caught by the indefinable in Stephen’s costume.  This would have puzzled Mr. Hopper’s tailor more.

“Very well, thanks.”

“A fine day after the rain.”

Stephen nodded, and Mr. Hopper entered the hours after him.

“Be you asked to Virginia Carvel’s party?” he asked abruptly.

“I do not know Miss Carvel,” said Stephen, wondering how well the other did.  And if the truth be told, he was a little annoyed at Mr. Hopper’s free use of her name.

“That shouldn’t make no difference,” said Eliphalet with just a shade of bitterness in his tone.  “They keep open house, like all Southerners,” Mr. Hopper hesitated,—­“for such as come well recommended.  I ’most forgot,” said he.  “I callate you’re not any too well recommended.  I ’most forgot that little transaction down to the Court House.  They do say that she wanted that gal almighty bad,—­she was most awful cut up not to get her.  Served her right, though.  I’m glad you did.  Show her she can’t have everything her own way.  And say,” he added, with laughter, “how you did fix that there stuckup Colfax boy!  He’ll never forgive you no more than she.  But,” said Mr. Hopper, meditatively, “it was a durned-fool trick.”

I think Stephen’s critics will admit that he had a good right to be angry, and that they will admire him just a little bit because he kept his temper.  But Mr. Hopper evidently thought he had gone too far.

“She ain’t got no use for me, neither,” he said.

“She shows poor judgment,” answered Stephen.

“She’s not long sighted, that’s sure,” replied Eliphalet, with emphasis.

At dinner Stephen was tried still further.  And it was then he made the determination to write for the newspapers in order to pay the rent on Mr. Brinsmade’s house.  Miss Carvel’s coming-out party was the chief topic.

“They do say the Colonel is to spend a sight of money on that ball,” said Mrs. Abner Reed.  “I guess it won’t bankrupt him.”  And she looked hard at Mr. Hopper.

“I callate he ain’t pushed for money,” that gentleman vouchsafed.

“He’s a good man, and done well by you, Mr. Hopper.”

“So—­so,” answered Eliphalet.  “But I will say that I done something for the Colonel.  I’ve saved him a hundred times my pay since I showed old Hood the leaks.  And I got a thousand dollar order from Wright & Company this week for him.”