This
city is undeniably sooty. A groom with a sooty shirt bosom would not
reflect credit on Esther Lockwin.

"Magnificent woman!" he cries, as he changes his linen once more. He
thinks he would marry her if she were poor.

It is getting well toward the event. Would it be correct to go early?
Where would he stay? Would he annoy the bride? What time is it? Let
us see. Four-thirty! Yes, now to keep this linen white. How would it
do to put a silk handkerchief over it--this way? Where are those silk
handkerchiefs? Must have one! Must have one! Not a one! Where is
that bell?

He touches the bell. He awaits the boy, who comes, and goes for a
handkerchief.

He sits upon the side of the bed and listens to the bickerings of the
waiters in the hall of the dining-room below. Dinner is now to be
served.

He studies the lock-history of the door.

"Lots of people have broken in here," he muses.

He passes over the rules--well he knows them!

The electric lights on the street throw dim shadows on the gas-lit
wall--factories, depots, vessels, docks, saw-mills. The phantasmagoria
pleases Mr. Harpwood.

"At 6 o'clock," he smiles, "I shall be the most powerful man in these
parts. I shall have the employment of nearly 15,000 men. I shall be
the husband of the woman who built the David Lockwin Annex--"

The man pauses.

"The David Lockwin Annex," he sneers, "No! No! No! It was a splendid
pile. It was a splendid pile."

The man grows sordid.

"But it cost a splendid pile. Pshaw, George Harpwood, will anything
ever satisfy you? How about that hospital? Didn't it give you your
opportunity?"

The boy returns. The man sits on his bed and muses:

"How differently things go in this world! See how easily Lockwin fell
into all this luck! See how I have hewn the wood and drawn the water!"

Something of disquiet takes possession of the bride-groom.

"I'm awfully tired of consolatory epistles. I must keep Esther from
being a hen. She's dreadfully in earnest."

As the goal is neared, this swift runner grows weary. The David
Lockwin Annex never seemed so unpleasant before.

It has taken longer to rearrange his linen and secure a faultless
appearance than he would have believed. He hastens to don his
overcoat. He smiles as he closes the door of his little bedroom at the
hotel. He goes to take the vast Wandrell mansion.

Why is his coachman so careless? After 5 o'clock already. The
bridegroom