In the front parlor of the Cresslers' house a little company was gathered--Laura Dearborn and Page, Mrs.
Wessels, Mrs.Cressler, and young Miss Gretry, an awkward, plain-faced girl of about nineteen, dressed extravagantly in a decollete gown of blue silk.Curtis Jadwin and Cressler himself stood by the open fireplace smoking.Landry Court fidgeted on the sofa, pretending to listen to the Gretry girl, who told an interminable story of a visit to some wealthy relative who had a country seat in Wisconsin and who raised fancy poultry.
She possessed, it appeared, three thousand hens, Brahma, Faverolles, Houdans, Dorkings, even peacocks and tame quails.
Sheldon Corthell, in a dinner coat, an unlighted cigarette between his fingers, discussed the spring exhibit of water-colors with Laura and Mrs.Cressler, Page listening with languid interest.Aunt Wess'
turned the leaves of a family album, counting the number of photographs of Mrs.Cressler which it contained.
Black coffee had just been served.It was the occasion of the third rehearsal for the play which was to be given for the benefit of the hospital ward for Jadwin's mission children, and Mrs.Cressler had invited the members of the company for dinner.Just now everyone awaited the arrival of the "coach," Monsieur Gerardy, who was always late.
"To my notion," observed Corthell, "the water-color that pretends to be anything more than a sketch over-steps its intended limits.The elaborated water-color, I contend, must be judged by the same standards as an oil painting.And if that is so, why not have the oil painting at once?""And with all that, if you please, not an egg on the place for breakfast," declared the Gretry girl in her thin voice.She was constrained, embarrassed.Of all those present she was the only one to mistake the character of the gathering and appear in formal costume.But one forgave Isabel Gretry such lapses as these.Invariably she did the wrong thing; invariably she was out of place in the matter of inadvertent speech, an awkward accident, the wrong toilet.For all her nineteen years, she yet remained the hoyden, young, undeveloped, and clumsy.
"Never an egg, and three thousand hens in the runs,"she continued."Think of that! The Plymouth Rocks had the pip.And the others, my lands! I don't know.They just didn't lay.""Ought to tickle the soles of their feet," declared Landry with profound gravity.
"Tickle their feet!"
"Best thing in the world for hens that don't lay.It sort of stirs them up.Oh, every one knows that.""Fancy now! I'll write to Aunt Alice to-morrow."Cressler clipped the tip of a fresh cigar, and, turning to Curtis Jadwin, remarked:
"I understand that Leaycraft alone lost nearly fifteen thousand."He referred to Jadwin's deal in May wheat, the consummation of which had been effected the previous week.Squarely in the midst of the morning session, on the day following the "short" sale of Jadwin's million of bushels, had exploded the news of the intended action of the French chamber.Amid a tremendous clamour the price fell.The Bulls were panicstricken.
Leaycraft the redoubtable was overwhelmed at the very start.The Porteous trio heroically attempted to shoulder the wheat, but the load was too much.They as well gave ground, and, bereft of their support, May wheat, which had opened at ninety-three and five-eighths to ninety-two and a half, broke with the very first attack to ninety-two, hung there a moment, then dropped again to ninety-one and a half, then to ninety-one.Then, in a prolonged shudder of weakness, sank steadily down by quarters to ninety, to eighty-nine, and at last--a final collapse--touched eighty-eight cents.At that figure Jadwin began to cover.There was danger that the buying of so large a lot might bring about a rally in the price.But Gretry, a consummate master of Pit tactics, kept his orders scattered and bought gradually, taking some two or three days to accumulate the grain.Jadwin's luck--the never-failing guardian of the golden wings--seemed to have the affair under immediate supervision, and reports of timely rains in the wheat belt kept the price inert while the trade was being closed.In the end the "deal" was brilliantly successful, and Gretry was still chuckling over the set-back to the Porteous gang.Exactly the amount of his friend's profits Jadwin did not know.As for himself, he had received from Gretry a check for fifty thousand dollars, every cent of which was net profit.
"I'm not going to congratulate you," continued Cressler."As far as that's concerned, I would rather you had lost than won--if it would have kept you out of the Pit for good.You're cocky now.I know--good Lord, don't I know.I had my share of it.I know how a man gets drawn into this speculating game""Charlie, this wasn't speculating," interrupted Jadwin.
"It was a certainty.It was found money.If I had known a certain piece of real estate was going to appreciate in value I would have bought it, wouldn't I?""All the worse, if it made it seem easy and sure to you.Do you know," he added suddenly."Do you know that Leaycraft has gone to keep books for a manufacturing concern out in Dubuque?"Jadwin pulled his mustache.He was looking at Laura Dearborn over the heads of Landry and the Gretry girl.
"I didn't suppose he'd be getting measured for a private yacht," he murmured.Then he continued, pulling his mustache vigorously:
"Charlie, upon my word, what a beautiful--what beautiful _hair_ that girl has!"Laura was wearing it very high that evening, the shining black coils transfixed by a strange hand-cut ivory comb that had been her grandmother's.She was dressed in black taffeta, with a single great cabbage-rose pinned to her shoulder.She sat very straight in her chair, one hand upon her slender hip, her head a little to one side, listening attentively to Corthell.
