Sister Carrie

particular evening he dined at "Rector's," a restaurant of some local fame, which occupied a basement at Clark and Monroe Streets. Thereafter he visited the resort of Fitzgerald and Moy's i

part high life-a fair sampl

or actors and professional men, seemed to him the proper place for a successful man to go. He loved fine clothes, good eating, and particularly the company and acquaintanceship of successful men. When dining, it was a source of keen satisfaction to him to know that Joseph Jefferson was wont to come to this same place

g themselves, particularly among those who had not yet reached, but hoped

y so," would

w that? Why, he's manager

at with solid comfort. If he had any vanity, this augmented it, and if he had any ambition, this stirred

hts, held in handsome chandeliers. The floors were of brightly coloured tiles, the walls a composition of rich, dark, polished wood, which reflected the light, and coloured stucco-work, which gave the place a very sumptuous app

ly under forty, he had a good, stout constitution, an active manner, and a solid, substantial air, which was composed in part of his fine clothes, his clean linen, his jewels, and, above all, his own sense of h

ial control. He had risen by perseverance and industry, through long years of service, from the position of barkeeper in a commonplace saloon to his present altitude. He had a little office in the place, set off in polished cherry and grill-work, whe

fteen-dollar-a-week clerks and office attachés, who, by long frequenting of the place, became aware of his position, to the "Why, old man, how are you?" which he addressed to those noted or rich individuals who knew him and were inclined to be friendly. There was a class, however, too rich, too famous, or too successful, with whom he could not attempt any familiarity of address, and with these he was professionally tactful, assuming a grave and dignified attitude, paying them the deference which would win their good feeling without in the least compromising his own bearing and opinions. There were, in the last place, a f

now and then with him, in company with several others, when the conversation was general. Drouet had what was a help in his business, a moderate sense of humour, and could tell a good story when the occasion required. He could talk races with Hurstwood, tell interesting incidents concerning himself and his experiences with w

d, as Drouet came in that evening about eight

ng good nature, and they

all r

u in six weeks. Wh

d Drouet. "Ha

he cold make-believe that usually dwelt in them. "What are you going to take?" he add

per," sa

same for me," p

n town this time?"

esday. I'm going

Saturday and said he saw y

uet. "Great old boy, isn't he? We

he draught as they talked, Drouet filling his to within a third of full, as was considered

rked Hurstwood. "I haven't seen

xclaimed Drouet. "Say,

ney in his time,

t. "He won't live much longer. Ba

hasn't he?" a

wift-pacer,"

siness very much, though, wit

injure that

ets, the light on his jewels and rings relieving them with ag

ion of the scene upon intellectual grounds. It seems plain that schemers would choose more sequestered quarters to arrange their plans, that politicians would not gather here in company to discuss anything save formalities, where the sharp-eared may hear, and it would scarcely be justified on the score of thirst, for the majority o

evil could come out of the contemplation of an expensively decorated chamber. The worst effect of such a thing would be, perhaps, to stir up in the material-minded an ambition to arrange their lives upon a similarly splendid basis. In the last analysis, that would scarcely be called the fault of the decorations, but rather of the innate trend of the mind. That such a scene might stir the less expensively dress

it represents-the love of light and show and finery which, to one outside, under the serene light of the eternal stars, must seem a strange and shiny thing. Under the

a gentleman just entering, arrayed in a high hat and Prince A

re?" sai

ng the direction by a cast of his

et, now affecting no

Wallace, the

im with his eyes,

a man who sees spirits

. "He's got the money, all right," and

n those things, do

something to it. I wouldn't bother about it myself, though

said Drouet, mentioning th

It's half after eight alread

atres, some to their clubs, and some to that most fascinating of all t

ill," sai

. I have something I want t

aid Droue

hand for the night, hav

a t

ome roun

y," remarked Drouet, by way of parting. "By George, t

nd her," Hurs

l you," went on Drouet confidential

lock," said

," said Droue

es, and that also when the little toiler was bemoaning her narrow lot, whi