t came to pass, early in December, that Mrs. Weightman and her two
daughters sailed for Europe, on their serious pleasure trip, even as
it had been written in the book of Providence; and John Weightman, who
had made the entry, was left to pass the rest of the winter with his
son and heir in the brownstone mansion.

They were comfortable enough. The machinery of the massive
establishment ran as smoothly as a great electric dynamo. They were
busy enough, too. John Weightman's plans and enterprises were
complicated, though his principle of action was always simple--to get
good value for every expenditure and effort. The banking-house of
which he was the brain, the will, the absolutely controlling hand, was
so admirably organised that the details of its direction took but
little time. But the scores of other interests that radiated from it
and were dependent upon it,--or perhaps it would be more accurate to
say, that contributed to its solidity and success,--the many
investments, industrial, political, benevolent, reformatory,
ecclesiastical, that had made the name of Weightman well known and
potent in city, church, and state, demanded much attention and careful
steering, in order that each might produce the desired result. There
were board meetings of corporations and hospitals, conferences in Wall
Street and at Albany, consultations and committee meetings in the
brownstone mansion.

For a share in all this business and its adjuncts John Weightman had
his son in training in one of the famous law firms of the city; for he
held that banking itself is a simple affair, the only real
difficulties of finance are on its legal side. Meantime he wished the
young man to meet and know the men with whom he would have to deal
when he became a partner in the house. So a couple of dinners were
given in the mansion during December, after which the father called
his son's attention to the fact that over a hundred million dollars
had sat around the board.

But on Christmas Eve father and son were dining together without
guests, and their talk across the broad table, glittering with silver
and cut glass, and softly lit by shaded candles, was intimate, though
a little slow at times. The elder man was in rather a rare mood, more
expansive and confidential than usual; and, when the coffee was
brought in and they were left alone, he talked more freely of his
personal plans and hopes than he had ever done before.

"I feel very grateful to-ni