arket. Henry Fenn's going to the capital for me to fix up the
charter; and then whoopee--the old man's coming along, eh? When I get
that thing on the market, you watch out for me--what say?"

The eyes of Margaret Fenn danced around the Captain's sprocket. So the
Judge, thinking to get rid of the Captain and oblige the Fenns with one
stroke, sent the Captain away with twenty-five dollars to pay Henry Fenn
for getting the patent for the sprocket and securing the charter for the
company.

As the Captain left the office of the Judge he greeted Mrs. Van Dorn
with an elaborate bow.

And now enter Laura Van Dorn. And she is beautiful, too--with candid,
wide-open gray eyes. Maturity has hardly reached her, but through the
beauty of line and color, character is showing itself in every feature;
Satterthwaite and Nesbit, force and sentiment are struggling upon her
features for mastery. The January air has flushed her face and her
frank, honest eyes glow happily. But when one belongs to the ancient,
though scarcely Honorable Primrose Hunt, and rides forever to the hounds
down the path of dalliance, one's wife of four years is rather stale
sport. One does not pry up her eyelashes; they have been pried; nor does
one hold dialogues with her under the words of conventional speech. The
rules of the Hunt require one to look up at one's wife--chiefly to find
out what she is after and to wonder how long she will inflict herself.
And when one is hearing afar the cry of the pack, no true sportsman is
diverted from the chase by ruddy, wifely cheeks, and beaming, wifely
eyes, and an eager, wifely heart. So when Laura his wife came into the
office of the young Judge she found his heart out with the Primrose Hunt
and only his handsome figure and his judicial mind accessible to her.
"Oh, Tom," she cried, "have you heard about the Adamses?" The young
Judge looked up, smiled, adjusted his judicial mind, and answered
without emotion: "Rather foolish, don't you think?"

"Well, perhaps it's foolish, but you know it's splendid as well as I.
Giving up everything they had on earth to soften the horror in South
Harvey--I'm so proud of them!"

"Well," he replied, still keeping his chair, and letting his wife find a
chair for herself, "you might work up a little pride for your husband
while you're at it. I gave two thousand. They only gave fifteen
hundred."

"Well--you're a dear, too." She touched him with a caressing hand. "But
you could afford it.