anners like a son, and had resolved, almost since the beginning, to end
by having him for one. And the last time that Manners had visited them
in Washington, St. John had seen to it that he shook hands with all the
great men who were making history. Once the senator and Margaret
had visited the Manners in New York. That had been a bitter time for
Aladdin, for while all the others of his age were sniffing timidly at
love and life, he had found his grand passion early and stuck to it, and
was now blissful with hope and now acrid with jealousy. Peter Manners he
hated with a green and jealous hatred. And if Peter Manners had any of
the baser passions, he divined this, and hated Aladdin back, but rather
contemptuously. They met occasionally, and the meetings, always in the
presence of Margaret, were never very happy. She was woman enough to
rejoice at being a bone of contention, and angel enough to hate seeing
good times spoiled.

But it was hard on Aladdin. He could go to her house almost when he
liked, and be welcomed by her, but to her father and the rest of the
household he was not especially welcome. They were always polite to him,
and always considerate, and he felt--quite rightly--that he was merely
tolerated, as a more or less presentable acquaintance of Margaret's.
Manners, on the other hand, and it took less intuition to know it, was
not only greatly welcome to Margaret, but to all the others--from
the gardener up to the senator. Manners' distinction of manner, his
wellbred, easy ways, his charmingly enunciative and gracious voice,
together with his naive and simple nature, went far with people's
hearts. Aladdin bitterly conceded every advantage to his rival except
that of mind. To this, for he knew even in his humble moments that he
himself had it, he clung tenaciously. Mrs. Brackett, with a sneaking
admiration for Peter Manners, whom she had once seen on the street, had
Aladdin's interests well in heart, and the lay of the matter well in
hand. She put it like this to a friendly gossip:

"I guess' Laddin O'Brien's 'bout smaht enough to go a long ways further
than fine clothes and money and a genealogical past will carry a body.
He writes sometimes six and eight big sides of paper up in a day, and
if he ain't content with that he just tears it up and goes at it again.
There won't be anybody'll go further in this world than 'Laddin O'Brien,
and you can say I said so--"

Here under oath of secrecy Mrs. Brackett low