Rich Man, Poor Man

sill quivered delicately in the breeze. There was a lily, too, standing in a dish beside them; and as the air stirred its stalk and slender,

d vacantly at the wall. Never had his lined face looked so gray, so furrowed; never had it

joined in the talk at the dinner table; his timid, frosty little giggle no more was heard to echo their merriment. Banquo at the feast

nd it was this knowledge that had worn on him so destructively. Even now at the thought his face grew full of pai

alist, when of a sudden a quick footfall, a step he well remembe

up her mind, she had felt so sure, so certain. The thing to do, she had been convinced up there, was to see Mr. Mapy; he would set everything

g. And again, how did she know they weren't true? A vulgar fortune hunter Beeston had termed him; and what reason had she to believe he wasn't? To be sure, he had

" called Bab.

she stood there s

uggled in it-alarm most of all. Then of a sudden, as if from the clou

aught thickly at his breath. "B

What in the wor

eeded someone to talk to; I had to come to

emed again to have laid its burden on his soul; for when he spoke i

half-dozen questions came dragging from his lips. After that, of a sudden Mr. Maple

ough!" she an

had been told. After that what ha

e at him they had followed him, matching their step to his. The night before, the same thing had happened, and the night before that too. What was more, when he had left the bank a moment that morning he had seen one of the pair standing on a corner across Broad Street. What

ried, he looked about him sharply. "You are alone

ngularly hard and penetrating for one of his usual kindliness

ant, Mr. Maple

it seemed, was n

Varick by the arm he half led, half tugged him down the hall. Then having reached

open the door, he pushed Varick into the room, then closed the door behind

It was as if all were well now. It was as if, as in the fairy tale, all were to live happy ever afterward. But Mr. Mapy, it appeared, had counted without his host. Perhaps ten minutes had passed, certainly not more than fiftee

d enough!" said Bab

eson's f

e exclaimed.

t toward him, to

e a look. Its air of disdain Mr. Mapleson did not miss. Neither did he miss the break in her voice, a note of hurt, of outrage, and nervously he put out his h

d not speak; he made no effort, so m

Mr. Mapleson stammered: "W

ered wit

down the stairs. Then presently, far below, the street door slammed. At th

re he whispered. "Tel

face did

e said; "I did my best I

little man, and a gasp e

ace grew s

t is it? My soul, man; whatev

he last vestige of color fled from his furro

u mean?" he

said

didn't you? You gave those lawyers their proofs. It

but still he did not speak. It was as if his ton

rged them, John Mapleson. You cooked them all up your

n did not e

palled. "What if they should find