ered to each other that Temple's clothes certainly
needed overhauling; more particularly his shirts, which were much
the worse for wear: one critic laying the seeming indifference to the
carelessness of a man who was growing old; another shaking his head with
the remark that it was Poole's bill which was growing old--older by a
good deal than the clothes, and that it would have to be patched and
darned with one of old George Brown's (the banker's) scraps of paper
before the wearer could regain his reputation of being the best-dressed
man in or out of the club.

None of these lapses from his former well-to-do estate made any
difference, however, to St. George's intimates when it came to the
selection of important guests for places at table or to assist in the
success of some unusual function. Almost every one in and around Kennedy
Square had been crippled in their finances by the failure, not only
of the Patapsco, but by kindred institutions, during the preceding few
years. Why, then, they argued, should any one criticise such economies
as Temple was practising? He was still living in his house with his
servants--one or two less, perhaps--but still in comfort, and if he did
not entertain as heretofore, what of it? His old love of sport, as was
shown by his frequent visits to his estates on the Eastern Shore, might
account for some of the changes in his hospitable habits, there not
being money enough to keep up establishments both in country and town.
These changes, of course, could only be temporary. His properties on
the peninsula--(almost everybody had "properties" in those days, whether
imaginary or real)--would come up some day, and then all would be well
again.

The House of Seymour was particularly in the dark. The Honorable Prim,
in his dense ignorance, had even asked St. George to join in one of his
commercial enterprises--the building of a new clipper ship--while Kate,
who had never waited five minutes in all her life for anything that
a dollar could buy, had begged a subscription for a charity she was
managing, and which she received with a kiss and a laugh, and without a
moment's hesitation, from a purse shrinking steadily by the hour.

Only when some idle jest or well-meant inquiry diverted his mind to
the chain of events leading up to Harry's exile was his insistent
cheerfulness under his fast accumulating misfortunes ever checked.

Todd was the cruel disturber on this particular day, with a bit of
infor