hing that parties of which women were members need
not waste their time trying to induce Dandy Steve to take them in
charge.

But fate had not lost sight of Steve yet. He had had his period of
solitary independence, of apparent absolute control of his own
destinies. His seven years were up. If he had supposed that he was
serving them, like Jacob of old, for that best-beloved mistress,
Freedom, he was mistaken. The seven years were up. How little he dreamed
what the eighth would bring him!

It was midsummer, and one of Steve's best patrons, Richard Cravath, of
Philadelphia, had not yet appeared. For three summers Mr. Cravath and
two or three of his friends had spent a month in the Adirondacks
hunting, fishing, camping under Steve's guidance. They were all rich
men, and generous, and, what was to Steve of far more worth than the
liberal pay, considerate of his feelings, tolerant of his reticence; not
a man of them but respected their queer, silent guide's individuality as
much as if he had been a man of their own sphere of life. Steve had
learned, by some unpleasant experience, that this delicate consideration
did not always obtain between employers and employed. It takes an
organization finer than the ordinary to perceive, and live up to the
perception, that the fact that you have hired a man for a certain sum of
money per month to cook your food or drive your horses gives you no
right to ask him in regard to his private, personal affairs prying
questions which you would not dare to put to common acquaintances in
society.

As week after week went by and no news came from Mr. Cravath, Steve
found himself really saddened at the thought of not seeing him. He had
not realized how large a part of his summer's pleasure, as well as
profit, came from the month's sport with this Philadelphia party.
Wistfully he scrutinized the lists of arrivals at the different houses
day after day, for the familiar names; but they were not to be found. At
last, after he had given over looking for them, he was electrified, one
evening in September, by having his name called from the piazza of one
of the hotels,--"Steve, is that you? You're just the man I want; I was
afraid we were too late to get you!"

It was Mr. Cravath, and with him the two friends whom Steve had liked
best of all who had been in Mr. Cravath's parties. It was the joy of the
sudden surprise which prevented Steve's giving his customary close
attention to Mr. Cravath's somew