Rich Man, Poor Man

e streets opening off Fifth Avenue there is a row of brownstone double dwellings of imposing grandeur and magnitude, and of the most in

indows. Formerly a vast variety of rococo tutti-frutti decoration in the stonecutter's best art ornamented these fronts; but today the weather, as well as a sluggish uneasiness awakening in the tenants' minds, has got rid of the most of it; so th

me could mar. It was her first opportunity to get her mind in order. She a Beeston? She, the little boarding-house waif, heir to

l herself languid and oppressed. And yet, as she knew, the night's ordeal had scarcely begun. In a few minutes n

was he dying; instead, the news having got to him that his son's child had been found, it had roused him like an elixir. "Bring her here!" he'd said. When they had protested, fea

on had been kind, she had been gentle; but still Bab wished she could have with her in the coming ordeal someone she had

Mapy was running, helter-skelter too. Besides, she recalled how queer his face had looked-agitated, quite fearful

here was Varick too. The impression crept over her that for what had happe

irs, dressed ready to go ou

e landing. His face was grave, silent, grim. It looked to her, too, as if he'd had som

, Bab,"

umsily at a loss for anything else to say;

won't see

what she'd pictu

ike these. She had no more than begun to reflect on Varick's curious atti

he limousine door, Bab glanced past him at the house beyond. Dark, no light from its windows anywhere,

g the drive sunk back in a cor

ing from within, Bab stood gazing about her with breathless

, itself cavernous in its immensity. Beyond, other rooms opened too. Bab glimpsed a library, then a dining-room, its sideboard and serving table glittering with silver. But

abbe?" sh

ld fellow who had been staring round-ey

he assistant, that is, madam.

ustling up the stairs, the others trooping after her. Not more than hal

pressive chamber, and was furnished darkly in the same massive way. And like his surroundings, the room and its furniture-the big dressing table, the vast writing de

still of giant force, of giant fierceness too. His face, framed among the pillows, gazed up at her with a quick, inquiring look; and then, as he seemed to comprehend, Bab felt h

ton instantly was aware. One gnarled, knotted hand raised itself from the coverl

ut!" h

been singularly curious,

ght, was uncomfortable, strangely uncertain for one heretofore

d struck the coverlid a sudden blow, and t

r a quick look at Bab, a glance the resentment

ised his hand, his

ver him old Beeston growled thickly, his voice, if

ne with that grim, dark figur

bled Beeston. "I w

staring darkly up at hers, pity for an instant welled into her heart. This was her father's father, she told herself; and troubled,

on the counterpane

's child," said Peter B

truculent disbelief, but now she felt no fear of hi

" she

eagerly; and then of a sudden his eyes left hers and went drifti

im, about my son

itantly. It was this

I tell you

s still were

't he?" he

t have known; and her trouble growing, Bab stared

father suddenly, so abruptly that she sta

d at him

and in her voice was a tone of quiet decisiveness she meant him clearly to see.

back again. Then a smile, a grim effigy of merrime

oung woman! I'm all Beeston too, and I've seen what comes to us self-willed folk! Your own father, because of it, ruined hi

, with the thoughts rioting in his mind, Beeston turned and shook roughly into place the pillows that supported him. And this was the man they had tho

e. It was as if that instant's rage, flaming hotly, must have lighted in the dim recesses of his mind som

" he asked heavily. "I wa

the mother had come from somewhere upstate; where, they did not know. But scant as this information was and shadowy, what they'd learned of the father was even less. Of his history they had gathered nothing, not even an impression. As for

voice breaking thickly. "He was my son; I drove him from me! Do

o free her h

said, and at that he ab

aid, as if

ruggle had passed the man's face changed anew with one of those astonishing transformations that so often marked his character. He smiled wanly. The fierceness waned fro

on. "Don't be afraid! You're my boy's gi

und Bab perched on the bed talking to Beeston as if she had always known him. A