xt70vt1gj327 https://exploreuk.uky.edu/dips/xt70vt1gj327/data/mets.xml Torbett, D. 1915  books b92-209-30909750 English Grosset and Dunlap, : New York : Contact the Special Collections Research Center for information regarding rights and use of this collection. Buchanan, Thompson, 1877-1937. Life  : a novelization of Thompson Buchanan's play / by D. Torbett ; illustrated from photographs of the play. text Life  : a novelization of Thompson Buchanan's play / by D. Torbett ; illustrated from photographs of the play. 1915 2002 true xt70vt1gj327 section xt70vt1gj327 















LIFE

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RuTH.

 





      L I F E

      A NOVELIZATION
OF THOMPSON BUCHANAN'S PLAY


             BY
       D. TORBETT



ILLUSTRATED WITH PHOTOGRAPHS OF
    SCENES FROM THE PLAY



        NEW Y
GROSSET 
       PUB LI SI



O R K
D U N LA P
- E R S

 
































   COPYRIGHT, 1915, BY

EDWARD J. CLODE

 
















LIFE

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CHAPTER I



T     HE general verdict among people who
     knew her was that Ruth Stuyvesant was
     an unusual girl. And this did not mean
that she was extraordinarily beautiful, or even
more talented and accomplished than the aver-
age girl in her position; neither was she ec-
centric nor given to fads.
  Nevertheless, at nineteen, on the eve of mak-
ing her formal bow to the great world of so-
ciety, where she was bound to take a conspicu-
ous place on account of her father's wealth
and position, she had already given signs of
being a young woman of unusual force of
character.
  Not that she was aggressive or pushing in
the strident manner of many of the young
women of the day; aside from a quick temper,
w hich flashed out at unexpected moments at
any suggestion of unfairness or injustice, she
was unusually quiet and modest. But among
the girls of her own age it was well under-
stood that when Ruth Stuyvesant made up her
mind, argument and eloquence were alike
wasted, nothing could move her.
  People of the older generation who remem-
bered her paternal grandmother, whose fame
as a " leader " was still a tradition in New

 


York society, said: " Of course she 'd be differ-
ent; she wouldn't be old Mrs. Stuyvesant's
granddaughter if she wasn't! " But the con-
venient theory of heredity somehow  broke
down when Ruth's elder brother Ralph, a young
man about town, came under discussion. He
certainly betrayed none of the ancestral
strength of mind. Also, contrary to the Stuy-
vesant tradition, which allowed for a certain
amount of wild-oat sowing among the men of
the family, provided that the harvest was soon
garnered, without publicity or scandal, Ralph
had not settled down.
  True, he had married early, as did all the
Stuyvesant men, a rather colorless woman of
suitable position and fortune, who was seen
everywhere wearing a perpetually aggrieved
look. But it was pointed out that, while at
twenty-five his father, already married, had
been made a member of the firm in the old
house of Stuyvesant and Company, bankers,
Ralph, at twenty-eight, was still only an em-
ployee, whose duties seemed to be rather vague,
whose responsibilities were nil. It was even
rumored that the elder Mr. Stuyvesant contem-
plated taking an outsider into the firm, pass-
ing over Ralph's head. This interesting piece
of gossip was supplemented with one even more
important to the Stuyvesants' friends in the
social world: it was said that this same for-
tunate young man would eventually become
allied with the house by the strongest of pos-



2



LIFE

 



sible ties, namely, that of husband of the daugh-
ter and heiress.                   I
  Whether this rumor had reached the ears of
Ruth, it was impossible to say. And Ruth was
not the sort of person to whom one repeated
idle gossip. In spite of the fact that she was
always alluded to in the society columns of the
newspapers as the "beautiful Miss Stuyve-
sant," Ruth was not, strictly speaking, beauti-
ful. But pretty and charming she was to an
exceptional degree. With her reddish hair-
which possession she always laughingly blamed
for her quick temper-her wide and humorous
mouth, her eyes of that indeterminate hue,
which some poet has happily described as

          -a   Too expressive to be blue,
          Too lovely to be grey,"
she was always a most delectable picture.
  But, best of all, she was the happy possessor
of that greatest of all social gifts, using
" social" in its broadest sense-the gift of
being sympathetically interested in the people
about her. Whatever enemies she had or was
to have in the future-and her position was
bound to excite both envy and jealousy, the
millennium being, as yet, indefinitely post-
poned-they would never be numbered among
any of the dependents of the house of Stuy-
vesant. Among her father's servants and em-
ployees down to the newest office boy in the
bank, she was nothing short of adored.



LIFE



3

 


  Between Ruth and her father existed a ten-
der and sympathetic relation, beautiful as it
was rare. She was at once his pride and his
compensation. Although she was a Stuyvesant
through and through, there were times when
his dead wife, whose memory he tenderly
cherished after the lapse of years, looked out
at him through her eyes.
  And, as far as possible, she made up to him
for the bitter disappointment which he suf-
fered in the career and character of his son.
How galling this disappointment was he was
too proud to confess even to his daughter. But
eccasionally, under the spur of fresh tidings
of Ralph's debts or the tale of his having been
seen in public with some of the most notorious
women of the town, he showed to the sympa-
thetic eye of his dearly loved daughter a little
of his secret hurt.
  As a matter of fact, Ruth knew quite as much
as her father of Ralph's conduct outside of the
bank. That the source of their common in-
formation was Ralph's wife did not tend to
increase the good feeling between the sisters-
in-law. At any fresh evidence that Anna had
been complaining to her father, Ruth's resent-
ment increased. At first she had foughit against
a natural tendency to despise her brother's
wife as a superficial, silly and weak woman.
But as time went on she had more or less justi-
fied herself to herself. Seeing that she was one
of those people who must tell her woes to some-



4



LIFE

 

LIFE



one, Ruth had reluctantly encouraged her to
come to her with her troubles. And with the
tacit understanding that by so doing she was
shielding her father, she had more than once
rescued them from some pressing debt. Her
own allowance was ample for her needs; there
was always some way to economize, something
she herself could do without.
  Ever since her early school days, Ruth had
made it a habit to go down to the bank in the
automobile several times a week to bring her
father home. This little attention pleased the
old gentleman greatly. But it was part of the
pleasure to complain loudly in the hearing of
the various officers of the establishment that
he was the most persecuted man alive. Never
could he escape from petticoat tyranny! Other
men were permitted to find their way home
after a hard day's work by themselves. Not
he! Of what he was suspected he did not
know. But, as all the world could see, he had
to have a keeper! It was mortifying, it was
humiliating, it was outrageous! And grum-
bling at a great rate in this fashion, he would
beam happily upon his daughter as they
started home together. In his own heart he
was already looking forward with dread to the
day when her new social duties, after her
d6but, would be too absorbing to permit of this
complained-of espionage.
  Naturally, it frequently happened that Ruth
would arrive while her father was in confer-

 


enee with some of his associates. With old-
fashioned courtesy, he always sent out his
apologies, promising to be with her shortly. It
was during these times that she had gradually
come to know many of the humbler members
of the establishment. When Mr. Stuyvesant
was at length released from his board meeting,
or what not, he was sure to find his daughter's
chair surrounded by some of the younger
clerks and stenographers, with all of whom she
was on terms of easy comradeship. Of course,
he always affected to regard this demoraliza-
tion of discipline as one of the many evil con-
sequences of her insistence on "seeing him
home." Secretly he was proud of her gift of
making friends, of her popularity with all the
staff.
"If she had only been the son of the house!"
There wasn't a man in the place who wouldn't
do anything for her. Whereas Ralph, as his
father well knew, was cordially disliked for his
overbearing and supercilious manner.
  One afternoon toward the end of AMay, Ruth
had had to wait an unusually long time. She
had found her father closeted with Ralph, al-
ways a sign of fresh worry and annoyance.
She had declined to send in word that she was
waiting, and while pretending to read a maga-
zine, with which one of the stenographers had
provided her, watched with amused and indul-
gent eyes the progress of a little flirtation be-
tween two of the humblest of the bank's em-



6



LIFE

 




ployees, one of the stenographers and the
watchman. She knew and liked them both and
had already made up her mind that they were
people to be helped whenever the time came
when they should be ready to settle down se-
riously. There was no mistaking that they
were in earnest, although the girl tried hard
to pretend not to be.
  They were both very young, although the
watchman's face Ruth sometimes fancied had
a curiously hunted look, which made him seem
prematurely older than his years. She made a
mental note that she must ask her father about
him. When at length her father came into the
outer office, he was accompanied both by Ralph
and by Thomas Burnett, the man whose speedy
advancement, in a double sense, society was
prophesying, as Ruth well knew. The report
had caused her much secret annoyance, partly
because it had been Ralph's wife who had been
her informant. Ruth's ever-ready temper had
taken fire at once.
  "Of course, it is too much to expect that
people mind their business; most of our
friends, unfortunately, haven't enough to oc-
cupy their minds to keep them from meddling
with other people's affairs. I have known
Tom Burnett ever since he first went into
father's bank. I call him Tom, but then I call
a number of the other clerks by their first
names. Why don't they marry me off to
O 'Brien, the watchman. I always call him



LIFE



7

 




Dennis! Oh, it's all too disgusting. I don't
see how you can bring yourself to listen to such
twaddle, much less how you can repeat it."
  Mrs. Ralph Stuyvesant's brown eyes had
narrowed for a moment.
  "Oh, don't you think you are just a little
too severe" she drawled in her affected man-
ner, which always got on Ruth's nerves.
"After all, you know, you do give the report
some color, running down to the bank nearly
every day as you do. Everybody thinks you
go to see Tom."
  "Why, I began going down when I was only
a girl in short dresses. Tom Burnett had just
left college to go into business. I don't suppose
lie had been in long trousers more than a few
years. "
"Yes, so I've heard," replied Mrs. Stuyve-
sant, in a tone which made Ruth feel that she
understood why people suddenly were impelled
to murder.
  She had bitten back a stinging retort, re-
membering that her sister-in-law always had
a weapon in reserve. She could make her poor
father more unhappy by carrying him tales of
Ralph's misdoings.
  But the gossip had had one result. Try as
she would, Ruth found to her secret chagrin
that all attempts to keep her manner to Tom
piteced in the same light, familiar, brother-and-
sister key that they had years ago adopted
failed to ring true in her own ears.



LIFE



8

 



  That Tom, too, detected the false note she
was perfectly convinced, although he never be-
trayed by look or manner that he was con-
scious of it. But then Tom had always been a
very shrewd young person.
  The gossip had spoiled everything, she told
herself. She was constantly on the watch when
with him, and while she fought against it and
told herself that her doubts were unjust to him
and unworthy of herself, she could not over-
come the growing suspicion that young Burnett
knew perfectly what people were saying about
them, and that, worst of all, he was, in a subtle
manner, doing everything he could to furnish
additional grounds for the report.
  For while his manner remained unchanged
when they were alone or when her father only
was present, when they met at the opera or
the theater, or at any of the luncheons or small
dinners which are permitted to a young woman
not yet officially "out," he assumed an attitude
of tender protection, the more exasperating be-
cause it was too intangible for her to combat.
After all, Ruth was still a very young girl. It
could not be expected that she would be as
adroit as a woman of the world.
  She had, as it happened, been particularly
annoyed by him only the evening before. A
reflection of that annoyance displayed itself in
her manner as she rose from her chair to greet
her father. She noticed that Ralph's face wore
a sullen look, which contrasted sharply with



LIFE



9

 



her father's worried expression and the alert,
bright look of Burnett.
  With a muttered excuse about being late for
an appointment and a sulky "Hello, sis,"
Ralph shrugged himself into a light topcoat
and out the door.
  "Don 't forget to look in on me to-night,"
called Burnett after him.
  Mr. Stuyvesant sank wearily into a chair.
  "I'm sorry to have kept you waiting so long,
daughter, but there were some things that I
had to attend to at the last minute. We're go-
ing to make some changes down here. But Tom
shall tell you about them when we get home.
You'll ride up with us, won't you, Tom!"
  "Now, father, dear," said Ruth, patting his
hand tenderly, "you have been working too late.
I don't intend to let you even talk business any
more to-night. Tom, I'm going to uninvite you
to come with us. Father's tired, and besides,
I want him to myself. I've some very impor-
tant business of my own to discuss. You won't
raind, I know."
  Burnett accepted his dismissal with charac-
teristic good humor, while Mr. Stuyvesant, tak-
ing his cue to grumble about not even being
permitted to ask a friend to ride home with
him, such was the tyranny under which he
lived, declared himself ready to depart.
  "You're going to see Ralph this evening,
didn't you say" he asked as Burnett stood
at the door of the automobile. "Your influence



10



LIFE

 




over him is far stronger than his father's, and
has always been for his good. Try and make
him see that no one will be more glad than I
to see any signs of improvement in his conduct
and to reward it. Stuyvesant and Company
will welcome him as a partner whenever he
shows signs of meriting such an advance."
  "Surely, sir, you can count on me. I'll make
him see that I am only holding down the place
until he is ready to take things a little more
seriously. "
  "Not at all, not at all. But there is no
reason why, with our immense business, there
should not be room for you both."
  For several moments after they had started
for home, Mr. Stuyvesant was silent. Ruth al-
ways respected his moods, knowing that when
he was ready to make any confidences she would
be the one person to whom he would turn with
his troubles. She knew from long experience
that all his troubles originated with Ralph. But
for the moment she was at a loss to account for
any fresh outbreak on her brother's part. She
had seen Anna only yesterday and had con-
gratulated herself that for once she seemed to
have no new complaints to make. She was al-
ways hoping that Ralph would at last settle
down and become a comfort and gratification
to his father.
  From the time that she was old enough to be
any judge of character she had realized that he
was lamentably weak and easily influenced. But



LT-FE



11

 


she had never thought that he was inherently
vicious. With the right sort of associates he
would have developed into the average type of
man she knew, even if he could never hope to
be as universally respected and looked up to
as his father. Womanlike, she blamed his wife
more than anyone. If Anna had had a shred
of real force of character, she told herself,
things might have been different. As it was,
she still hoped that the combined efforts of
her father, Tom Burnett and herself might yet
make a man of him. After all, he was very
young and curiously undeveloped. In spite of
the fact that he was nine years the elder, she
always felt as if in some unaccountable manner
the family records had been changed and that
she herself were really the firstborn of the
family.
  "You may congratulate your friend Tom
when you see him next," said her father at
length. "He has been honored with the post
of junior partner in Stuyvesant and Company.
He will not be officially appointed before the
first of the month, but there is no reason that
his advancement should be kept secret from his
friends. And I am glad to say that he fully de-
serves his promotion," he added with a sigh.
  Ruth linked her arm in that of her father.
She understood the sigh. How humiliated he
must be at the thought that the new associate
in the house of which he was the head should
be an outsider! Never in the long and honor-



12



LIFE

 




able career of the house had it been headed by
anyone not bearing the name of Stuyvesant.
  "I am glad, particularly if it will take any
care off your shoulders. We have all known
Tom so long that he seems quite like one of our-
selves. And I think this change may be good
for Ralph. Of course, he will be humniliated.
But I think it is just what he needs to bring
him to his sense-. You know Ralph isn't really
bad at heart. And if he has any pride this
will stimulate him to pull himself together and
show that he is really worth something."
  "I have almost given up hope," said her
father sadly. "But I agree with you that this
lesson may be the best lie has ever had. I
cannot quite free myself from the idea that I
am largely to blame. I have been too liberal
and indulgent with him. He has been spoiled
by too much money. But money never spoiled
a Stuyvesant before," he added proudly.
  " Yes, I shall be much more free, with Tom
to take a large part of the detail of the bank
off my hands. He has a good head and is as
steady as a rock. He will be the help and com-
fort that I had always hoped my son would be.
I sometimes wish "
  He stopped and looked keenly at his daugh-
ter. To her secret annoyance, the color flooded
Ruth's face. Her father, too, must have heard
the gossip that was linking her name with
Tom 's.
  "Oh, my little girl, my little girl," he said,



LIFE



1 -9
1V

 



taking her hand in his, "it would be a weight
off my mind to know that after I am gone
your happiness would be safe in the hands of
a man like Tom! "
  "Don't, father, don't talk of such a thing.
One would think that you were old and de-
crepit. Just wait a week or two till the boat
race. You'll be as much of a boy as any of the
crew. Last year you acted as if you were an
undergraduate," said Ruth, forcing herself to
laugh, although the quick tears had come into
her eyes.
  "Oh, I know I'm not exactly an old man yet,
and thank God my health is still of the best!
But one must think of the future. I didn't in-
tend to speak of it yet, but I don't know of any
young fellow I would so gladly see you fall in
love with as Tom Burnett."
  "I didn 't know you were so anxious to be rid
of me."
  " Ruth!"
  "It certainly looks like it. You are making
plans to marry me off to a man who has always
been, if not exactly like a brother, like a sort
of a cousin to me. Father!" as she caught the
expression of his face, "you don't mean that
Tom has-has said anything to you"
  "Yes, he came to me last winter. But I told
him to wait, that you were too young. I
wanted you to see a little of the world and so-
ciety first. I didn't intend to speak of it, as I
said. But to-day's business has sort of upset



LIFE



14

 



me. And now that I have spoken, I will say
that it is the dearest wish of my heart."
  "But, father, you wouldn't want me to marry
a man I didn't love. I know it's old-fash-
ioned," said Ruth with a shy little laugh, "but
I have made up my mind to die an old maid,
unless the right man comes along."
  "Of course I wouldn't, daughter. Keep to
your 'old-fashioned' ideas, as you call them. I
have too much confidence in my little girl to
think that she could ever love anyone un-
worthy. "
  "Thank you, father." Ruth leaned over and
kissed him.
  "Tell me one thing, Ruthie, and I'll promise
not to bring up the subject again until you are
ready to reopen it. Is there anyone else" He
looked at her with anxious eyes.
  With an heroic effort Ruth succeeded in hid-
ing a smile.
  "Yes," she said slowly, "there is. I'm
madly, distractedly in love with a man, oh,
quite a little older than I; in fact, he's old
enough to be my father. And his name-"
here she broke into a peal of laughter as she
encountered Mr. Stuyvesant's glance of stony
horror-"his name is William Van Rennssel-
aer Stuyvesant!"
  And as the automobile stopped in front of
their door she leaned over and kissed him
again, to the manifest scandal of a passing nurs-
erymaid.



LIFE



15


 






CHAPTER II



  ToM BURNETT had waited, standing on the
pavement, hat in hand, until his senior part-
ner 's automobile turned the corner, the smile
which many people found so winning still curv-
ing his lips.
  It was his habit when he was not dining out
and had a free evening to walk uptown to his
club, partly because he enjoyed the exercise
and partly because he often found that his
mind worked more clearly under the stimulus
of locomotion.
  As he walked along with his free, swinging
gait, he was pleasantly conscious of the covert
glances of admiration which were bestowed on
him by many women and some men in the pass-
ing throng. It was not only that he was a
handsome, upstanding figure, but there was
something about his whole personality that ex-
haled success. Years before, his shrewd old
grandmother had declared that she foresaw
that he would get anything in the world that
he wanted. And she had mentally added that
he would not be over-scrupulous as to the
means employed.
  It may have been that as he grew older others
divined the same defect in his character with-
out so exactly defining it. Possessing all of
                     16

 




the superficial qualities which make for popu-
larity, he had passed three years at Yale Uni-
versity without distinguishing himself in any
way, and had left at the end of his junior year
without-if we except his friendship for Ralph
Stuyvesant-having formed any of those close
ties so natural to his time of life. Ralph, -who
was two years his junior, admired him extrava-
gantly and was greatly flattered at having been
picked out for a friend by so handsome and
clever a personage. He had been proud to
bring this attractive young man home with
him at the holidays and was gratified to find
his judgment indorsed by both his father and
sister, particularly the former, who had not
always in the past approved of the objects of
his son's sudden friendships.
  Burnett had improved these opportunities to
the utmost. He could at will assume an air of
appealing frankness, which, added to the fact
that he undoubtedly was the possessor of a fine
mind and displayed a keen interest and natural
aptitude for business, had decided the elder
Stuyvesant to make him an offer of a position
in his bank, although he deprecated his resolu-
tion to cut short his college career.
  But Burnett had frankly explained that he
was not doing so on any sudden or uncon-
sidered impulse. He had, it seemed, a widowed
mother and two younger sisters living in a
small country town in the Middle West; and,
while his mother's slender income was suffi-



LIFE



17

 





cient for their present needs, he not only
chafed at being a further drain on their re-
sources, but was anxious to help them to realize
upon the investment made in his education as
soon as possible. Then, too, he pointed out,
unless he should be able to contribute to the
support of his sisters by the time they should
be a little older, they would be compelled to do
something to support themselves.
  "So, you see," he finished with his charming
smile, ''it's ' up to me.'
  He could hardly have employed an argument
which would have appealed more strongly to
his host. Mr. Stuyvesant had all the prejudices
of his generation in favor of his womankind be-
ing sheltered and protected against all knowl-
edge of the rough side of life. That this young
man, who unquestionably came of people of
breeding and refinement, should hold similar
views was a credit alike to his heart and to his
manliness of character.
  And so, shortly after his twentieth birthday,
Burnett had entered the great house of Stuy-
vesant and Company.
  Once there, he had more than justified his
employer's opinion. There was no question
but that he had chosen the proper field for the
exercise of his undoubted talent for finance.
At first, naturally, he saw but little of the head
of the firmn. He was far too shrewd to trade
upon the social side of their relation. But from
time to time reports of his industry, his appli-



LIFE



is

 



cation and his abilities were brought to his
gratified patron.
  For the three years while Ralph was still at
the university, and Ruth in the hands of teach-
ers and governesses, Burnett saw but little of
the Stuyvesant family. But once Ralph was
graduated-he had managed to get through
with the smallest of margins-and taken the
place waiting for him in the bank, he began
once more to frequent the house, where he was
doubly welcome as Ralph's friend and as a
young man of unusual promise.
  That their friendship was as strong as ever,
in spite of the fact that the elder Stuyvesant
was continually holding up his prot6g6 as a
shining example to his son, was, in the begin-
ning, a credit both to Ralph's natural gener-
osity and to his friend's tact. Later on there
were more substantial, if less creditable, rea-
sons for its continuance.
  It had not taken Tom Burnett three years to
come to the conclusion that even with his ex-
ceptional talents and the favor of his employer,
the direct and honest road to wealth and power
was too long for a man of his extravagant
tastes and ambitions. He had made up his
mind when hardly more than a lad that wealth
and power he would have, and that, too, while
he was still young enough to enjoy them to the
full. That there were men well under middle-
age who were great figures in the financial
world he very well knew.



LIFE



19

 



  But in studying their careers he had almost
invariably been confronted with the fact that
they had been the fortunate possessors of what
to him seemed modest fortunes to begin with.
The day had gone by, he told himself, when
poor men could become millionaires by talent
and industry alone. There were too many com-
petitors with an equal amount of talent and in-
dustry plus capital. Things being equal, he
would have preferred to be honest. But hon-
esty was a luxury which the struggling poor
man could not afford until after he had reached
his goal or saw himself well on the way to it.
Many a man was held in the highest respect
whose business ethics would hardly have con-
formed to old-fashioned standards. Times had
changed. Success was the only criterion. The
difference between being known as a "sharp"
man of business and a dishonest one was only
the difference between success and failure.
That was the thing in a nutshell. It was with
such sophistries as these that he lulled the voice
of a never very active conscience.
  But he intended to "play safe."  To do
otherwise was to confess to being a fool. And
the safest game for him was to involve Ralph
in any of the numerous little "enterprises"
which already teemed in his busy, active, spider
brain. Ralph would always be an anchor to
windward. If things went wrong-and the per-
centage against their doing so was all in his
favor-the only son of the head of the firm



g)o



LIFE

 



would be as much involved as he. He had care-
fully cultivated the acquaintance of a young
stockbroker by the name of Davidson, a mem-
ber of an old and reputable firm, who, however
shrewd he might be in a business way, lie found
singularly gullible in all matters not pertain-
ing to the affairs of his office.
  He had been at no small pains to ingratiate
himself with this youth, whom he found sus-
ceptible to flattery to an almost laughable de-
gree. Like so many of his kind, he considered
himself a full-fledged man-of-the-world and a
keen judge of character. Naturally he was clay
in the hands of a clever and unscrupulous man
like Burnett.
  It had been an easy thing to fill his ears with
the story of some rich maiden aunts in the
West, who had a mania for speculation. It
would, of course, be a simple matter for their
favorite nephew to throw their business where
he chose. And there was nowhere he would
rather throw it than to Davidson, Post and
Davidson. Only the younger Davidson must
see to it that his friend did not appear in any
of the transactions. While it was true that
nearly everyone speculated nowadays, even
the safest ventures were barred to the em-
ployees of Stuyvesant and Company. Old man
Stuyvesant would have a blue fit if it came to
his ears that any of them had anything to do
with the market. Later on, when certain con-
templated changes took place and Tom had



LIEFE



21

 

LIFE



known how to hint unmistakably that the con-
templated changes included his own promotion
-things would be different.  But for the
present
  Davidson had agreed to guarantee the ut-
most secrecy and Tom had begun to speculate
cautiously and in a small way, which was a
credit to the discretion of the rich aunts. Be-
ginner's luck is proverbial. Burnett was no
exception to the rule. He was too cool-headed
to lose his point of view over his first successes,
and all might have gone well if he could have
equally kept his head over the matter of his
personal expenditures. But his greatest weak-
ness was for women. And a woman was his
undoing.
  It was during his first term at college that
Fate crossed his path in the shape of Grace
Andrews, the daughter of the trainer of the
crew. Little more than a child in years-she
was barely fifteen-she already gave promise
of developing into unusual beauty, with her
wonderful dark eses, her scarlet lips and her
creamy skin. At first Burnett, like all the mem-
bers of the crew and the men interested in boat-
ing, who spent a large part of their spare time
around the training quarters, treated her like a
child, teasing her and spoiling her by turns.
But gradually it began to dawn upon him that
she was as unusual in character as in appear-
ance.
  Whether or not it was some deep-seated pre-

 



disposition to evil in her nature that responded
to a like quality in his, their relation was al-
most from the beginning entirely different from
that which existed between her and the clean-
limbed, clean-minded boys who made up the
various crews and their substitutes, at once the
pride and the torment of old Tom Andrews and
his fat, good-natured wife.
  To all outward appearances, Gracie treated
them all alike, chaffing them and being plagued
by them in turn, calling them all familiarly by
their first names or nicknames; now siding
with them, now with her mother in the warfare
that was constantly waged between them. For
these light-hearted lads, full to overflowing
with animal spirits, delighted in deviling
"Mother" Andrews almost more than they did
her daughter; while she, for her part, would
have felt that her occupation was gone if she
did not have them to scold and abuse.
  But when Gracie and Tom Burnett were
alone together her manner altered completely.
The romping hoyden vanished and she became
thoughtful, even grave. No one seeing her for
the first time in this mood would ever have
dreamed of splashing her with water or pulling
her long, thick braids of hair. The first time
Burnett had encountered this attitude he had
met it with a mocking air of deference, which,
however, had not survived the girl's first
speech.
  "Heavens!" she said scornfully. "I thought



LT-FE



23

 



I was talking to a man. But I see you are really
as much a child as the o