"Our friendship dates back a good many
years, Monty, and this is the first time you ever made me feel you
disapproved of me. Does it mean--"

"It means that I'm proving my friendship now," Huntington interrupted,
"by telling you an unpleasant truth. During this long friendship, which
I never prized more highly than I do this moment, I have watched you
work out your success, often against heavy odds. All this I have
admired, Connie, but to win as you have done has been at a cost I had
not realized until I saw you under these new conditions: it has kept you
from developing those finer instincts which a man needs to guide him at
a time like this."

"You mean romance, I suppose, and sentiment."

"I mean a sensing of the proportions and a respect for appropriateness
even if it interferes with your preconceived plans. Your interest in
this girl exists admittedly because of what an alliance with her will do
for you: it will bring you closer to the group of operators of which her
father is the head, she will preside with credit over your household,
through her you may perhaps secure social advantages which now you feel
are beyond your reach."

"Isn't all that legitimate?"

"Entirely legitimate, measured by laws of barter and sale,--but to my
mind eminently improper when applied to Miss Thatcher."

As Huntington grew more and more intense Cosden's attitude gradually
became normal again, and an indulgent expression replaced the serious
aspect which his face had assumed as their conversation progressed.

"Well, Monty," he said, slapping him on the back, "you've got that off
your mind, and it's a good thing to have happen. What you want is to
take your endorsement off my social note; that's all right,--consider it
done. Your sentimental notions are great in story-books but less
valuable in every-day life. You stick to your ideals, and I will to
mine. I've made up my mind to get married, and you know what happens
when once my mind is made up."

"You are absolutely hopeless!" Huntington cried despondently.

"Hopeful, you mean," laughed Cosden, "in spite of your gloomy
forebodings. What you say ought to shake my confidence in myself, no
doubt, but somehow I think I'd rather hear it direct from Miss Thatcher
herself. Hello!" he exclaimed as he looked at his watch, "it's time to
start. Cheer up, Monty! Really, things aren't half as bad as they look
from where you sit!"

* * * * *

XVI