mong the first to call on her. Mind that!"

She looked at the man pityingly. Men never understood. Call on her? Of
course, she would call on her. For how could she make the woman
unhappy if she did not call on her?

Chapter V

Every city has its Fifth Avenue. That which we can not have as our own
we strive to imitate. Animal and vegetable life simply reproduces
itself; humanity does more than that, it imitates. Williams Street was
the Fifth Avenue of Herculaneum. It was broad, handsome, and climbed a
hill of easy incline. It was a street of which any city might be
justly proud. Only two or three houses jarred the artistic sense.
These were built by men who grew rich so suddenly and unexpectedly
that their sense of the grotesque became abnormal. It is an
interesting fact to note that the children of this class become
immediately seized with a species of insanity, an insanity which urges
them on the one hand to buy newspapers with dollar-bills, and on the
other to treat their parents with scant respect. Sudden riches have,
it would seem, but two generations: the parent who accumulates and the
son who spends.

The Warrington home (manor was applied to but few houses in town)
stood back from the street two hundred feet or more, on a beautiful
natural terrace. The lawn was wide and crisp and green, and the oak
trees were the envy of many. The house itself had been built by one of
the early settlers, and Warrington had admired it since boyhood. It
was of wood, white, with green blinds and wide verandas, pillared
after the colonial style. Warrington had purchased it on a bank
foreclosure, and rather cheaply, considering the location. The
interior was simple but rich. The great fireplace was made of old
Roman bricks; there were exquisite paintings and marbles and rugs and
china, and books and books. Very few persons in Herculaneum had been
inside, but these few circulated the report that the old house had the
handsomest interior in town. Straightway Warrington's income became
four times as large as it really was.

The old aunt and the "girl" kept the house scrupulously clean, for
there was no knowing when Richard might take it into his head to come
home. The "girl's" husband took care of the stables and exercised the
horses. And all went very well.

Warrington seldom went to church. It was not because he was without
belief; there was a strong leaven of faith underlying his cynicism.
Frankly, sermons bored him. I