strong hint for him to be gone, but in his besotted condition, he
did not propose to be disposed of so easily. Turning to Underwood, he
burst out with an air of offended dignity:

"Underwood, you wouldn't go back on me now. I'm an outcast, a pariah, a
derelict on the ocean of life, as one of my highly respectable uncles
wrote me. His grandfather was an iron puddler." With a drunken laugh he
went on: "Doesn't it make you sick? I'm no good because I married the
girl. If I had ruined her life I'd still be a decent member of society."

He helped himself to another drink, his hand shaking so that he could
hardly hold the decanter. He was fast approaching the state of complete
intoxication. Underwood made an attempt to interfere. Why should he care
if the young fool made a sot of himself? The sooner he drank himself
insensible the quicker he would get rid of him.

"No, Howard," he said; "you'd never make a decent member of society."

"P'r'aps not," hiccoughed Howard.

"How does Annie take her social ostracism?" inquired Underwood.

"Like a brick. She's a thoroughbred, all right. She's all to the good."

"All the same I'm sorry I ever introduced you to her," replied
Underwood. "I never thought you'd make such a fool of yourself as to
marry----"

Howard shook his head in a maudlin manner, as he replied:

"I don't know whether I made a fool of myself or not, but she's all
right. She's got in her the makings of a great woman--very crude, but
still the makings. The only thing I object to is, she insists on going
back to work, just as if I'd permit such a thing. Do you know what I
said on our wedding day? 'Mrs. Howard Jeffries, you are entering one of
the oldest families in America. Nature has fitted you for social
leadership. You'll be a petted, pampered member of that select few
called the "400,"' and now, damn it all, how can I ask her to go back
to work? But if you'll let me have that $2,000----"

By this time Howard was beginning to get drowsy. Lying back on the sofa,
he proceeded to make himself comfortable.

"Two thousand dollars!" laughed Underwood. "Why, man, I'm in debt up to
my eyes."

As far as his condition enabled him, Howard gave a start of surprise.

"Hard up!" he exclaimed. Pointing around the room, he said: "What's all
this--a bluff?"

Underwood nodded.

"A bluff, that's it. Not a picture, not a vase, not a stick belongs to
me. You'll have to go to your father."

"Never," said Howard despondent