Madcap

ned, looking out over the bay toward the distant launch. The aroplane had vanished. When he reac

that the sanest philosophy of life was that which brought the greatest happiness. And sanity such as his own was only a sober kind of madness after all, a quiet mania which sought out the soul of things a

, by profession banker and captain of industry, a man whose name was remembered the breadth of the land for his masterly manipulation of a continental railroad which eventually came under his control; an organizer of trusts, a patron saint of political lobbyists, a product of the worst and of the best of modern business! This girl who had fallen like a bright meteor across Markham's sober sky this morning was Peter Challoner's daughter. He remembered now the stories h

for her, a girl who would have been as pretty as Hermia Challoner if her youth had only been given its chance. This was Dorothy Herick, whose father, a friend of Markham's father, had been swallowed up in one of the great industrial combinations which Peter Challoner had planned. Markham, who had been studying in Paris at the time, had forgotten the details of Oliver Herrick's do

e of femininity who read proof in a publisher's office in New York. He knew something of the law of the survival of the fittest, for he himself had survived the long struggle for honors which had put him at last in a position where he felt secure at least from the pinch of poverty, and whatever Ol

g to have it granted, with Dorothy Herrick, the neglected and forgotten, who was bartering her youth for twelve dollars a week and was glad to get the money; one, who boasted that the only value life had for her was what she could get out of it, with the other, who almost felt it a privilege to be permitted to live at all. The more he thought of these two girls, the more conv

day, and whatever the faults bequeathed by her intrepid father, she was, as Markham had said to Olga, quite human. There were possibilities in the child-and it seemed a pity that no strong guiding hand led the way on a road like hers, which had so many turnings. She

leisurely. But in a moment he took it indoors and added it to the pile in the living-room, fetching a fresh canvas and carryi

life were liberal and she was not wise-at least, not with a wisdom which would help Hermia Challoner. One doesn't live for ten years in Paris in the set in which Markham had met her without absorbing something of its careless creed, its loose ethical and moral standar

irled and cast in a fishing line, not because he hoped to catch anything but because fishing, of all the resources available, had most surely the ways of peace. The book was a French treatise on the Marxian philosophies-dull reading for a summer's day when the water lapped m

that "Karl Marx," rudely jostled by his elbow, went sliding over the edge of the rock and into the sea. But there wa

ham?" he

. "That's my n

launch moved slowly in

, already aware that th

ude. He broke the seal

om Hermia

Mr. M

't a great deal of difference between them after all. You, too, take from life, Mr. Markham-you take what you need just as I do; but just be

de. We want you at "Wake Robin," Mr. Markham. Will you come to dine and stay the night? By so doing you will at least show an

Madame Tcherny, who is already tir

rdially

a Cha

ough and turned toward th

the launch an

ith the engine, "I'll wait for you here.

hardly be courteous. He stood in the doorway puzzling a moment and then went over to a trunk in the corner, opened it and beg

But why the devil they can't leave a fellow alone-" and, fuming silently, he shaved, made

Olga, wonderfully attired in an afternoon co

" she laughed. "You have won my fond regard

I

been watching the island through the telescope, and saw you embark-s

it seems," he laughed,

een you lookin

ing once again a full grown man. I have been

d by terraces, lawns and gardens, guarded from the intrusive eyes of the highway by a high privet hedge. The tennis courts seemed to be the center of interest and in a corner of the terrace which faced the bay were some people taking tea and watching a match of singles between Reggie Armistead and their hostess. The chauffeur took the suit

a long slim hand in Markham's direction

ave to put up with the Philistines for a while. Hermia's beating Reggie A

Archie Westcott, who

y're one set all and He

ce. That makes

hant. Vigor, suppleness and grace marked every movement, the smashing overhand service, the cat-like spring to the net, the quick recovery, the long free swing of the volley from the back-court, all of which showed form of a high order. It was a man's

wns, fingering at his collar band, his face brick-col

er chair and fanned vi

ugh. Oh, what's the us

Crosby?" smil

me, that. Doctor's orders. A hundred and ten to-day. C

Crosby," sneered Carol Gouverne

t. But I lost four pounds," he added more cheerfully-his fingers demonstrating in his waistband.

, "but everything we do

ause form the others at a par

ermia's vantage and forty-love. O Reggie! A love ga

e net, Hermia laughing gaily, Armistead's eyes full of

ests and smiled as Markham came forward to meet her. She was rosy

stop. I simply had to beat Reggie, you know," And then as her responsibilities recurred to her,

others and threw herself in a lounge

o mock at all seriousness-the grasshopper entertaining the

t have its momen

olous!" s

ret longings. I was born old. Show me how to

g. I think I'll

hed. "A

zed him from

your g

red his

he

no

f and looked at

. You're ten years you

, a

of it-when yo

d n

r. Markham-and mak

y spee

adored her secretly, and when ladies visit your

I do

e." She lay back and laughed at him. "There-

moment, and then his eyes

aid, with a slow smile.

d, her eyes spa

a glance at the others and rose. "Here endeth the first lesson. It is time to dress. We

e me anybody but myself, she will thank you from the bottom of her heart.

at res

stopped suddenly. "I mean socially-professionally. You see I'

really can paint?" she

ged and