had adjusted his cravat
before the glass and brushed a few stray hairs over his temples, "that's
a man it would do you an immense amount of good to know; the kind of a
man you call worthwhile. Not only does he speak three languages, Hebrew
being one of them, but he can talk on any subject from Greek temples to
the raising of violets. Morris thinks the world of him--So do I."

"Yes, I heard him say something about columns."

"Oh!--then you overheard! Yes, they are for the new synagogue that
Morris is building. Cohen is chairman of the committee."

"And he is the banker, too, I suppose?" rejoined Jack, in a tone which
showed his lack of interest in both man and subject. It was Peter's ear
he wanted, and at once.

The old man's eyes twinkled: "Banker!--not a bit of it. He's a tailor,
my dear boy--a most delightful gentleman tailor, who works in the
basement below us and who only yesterday pressed the coat I have on."
Here Peter surveyed himself with a comprehensive glance. "All the
respectable people in New York are not money mad." Then, seeing Jack's
look of astonishment over the announcement, he laid his hand on the
boy's shoulder and said with a twinkle of his eye and a little laugh:
"Only one tailor--not nine--my boy, was required to make Mr. Cohen a
man. And now about yourself. Why are you not at work? Old fellows like
me once in a while have a holiday--but young fellows! Come!--What is
it brings you here during business hours? Anything I can help you
in?--anything at home?" and Peter's eyes bored holes in the boy's brain.

Jack glanced at Miss Felicia, who was arranging the roses Morris had
brought her, and then said in a half whisper: "I have had a row with my
uncle, sir. Maybe I had better come some other day, when--"

"No--out with it! Row with your uncle, eh? Rows with one's uncles are
too commonplace to get mysterious over, and, then, we have no secrets.
Ten chances to one I shall tell Felicia every word you say after you've
gone, so she might as well hear it at first-hand. Felicia, this young
fellow is so thin-skinned he is afraid you will laugh at him."

"Oh, he knows better. I have just been telling him how charming he must
be to have won Miss MacFarlane's good opinion," rejoined his sister as
she moved her work-basket nearer her elbow.

And then, with mind at rest, now that he was sure Ruth had not heard,
and with eyes again blazing as his thoughts dwelt upon the outrage,
he poured out his story, Mis