erself. She was not made for poverty--and who
so well as she was fitted for the social leadership of our community?

They were married in Trinity Church in the month of May, and I was one of
Ham's attendants. Ralph was "best man." For the last time the old Willett
mansion in Powell Street wore the gala air of former days; carpets were
spread over the sidewalk, and red and white awnings; rooms were filled
with flowers and flung open to hundreds of guests. I found the wedding
something of an ordeal. I do not like to dwell upon it--especially upon
that moment when I came to congratulate Nancy as she stood beside Ham at
the end of the long parlour. She seemed to have no regrets. I don't know
what I expected of her--certainly not tears and tragedy. She seemed
taller than ever, and very beautiful in her veil and white satin gown and
the diamonds Ham had given her; very much mistress of herself, quite a
contrast to Ham, who made no secret of his elation. She smiled when I
wished her happiness.

"We'll be home in the autumn, Hugh, and expect to see a great deal of
you," she said.

As I paused in a corner of the room my eye fell upon Nancy's father.
McAlery Willett's elation seemed even greater than Ham's. With a gardenia
in his frock-coat and a glass of champagne in his hand he went from group
to group; and his familiar laughter, which once had seemed so full of
merriment and fun, gave me to-day a somewhat scandalized feeling. I heard
Ralph's voice, and turned to discover him standing beside me, his long
legs thrust slightly apart, his hands in his pockets, overlooking the
scene with typical, semi-contemptuous amusement.

"This lets old McAlery out, anyway," he said.

"What do you mean?" I demanded.

"One or two little notes of his will be cancelled, sooner or
later--that's all."

For a moment I was unable to speak.

"And do you think that she--that Nancy found out--?" I stammered.

"Well, I'd be willing to take that end of the bet," he replied. "Why the
deuce should she marry Ham? You ought to know her well enough to
understand how she'd feel if she discovered some of McAlery's financial
coups? Of course it's not a thing I talk about, you understand. Are you
going to the Club?"

"No, I'm going home," I said. I was aware of his somewhat compassionate
smile as I left him....

XII.

One November day nearly two years after my admission as junior member of
the firm of Watling, Fowndes and Ripon seven gentlemen