financial panic. Yet there seemed to be an other side to his character. His hands were soft and white as those of a lady, moist and tremulous too, when they touched mine. His manner was courteous and deferential to a notable degree, and he was dressed with almost painful neatness. I wondered as he walked away holding the arm of the slender youth, where the two sides of his character met, and by what jointure they were united. I had not long to wait for the solution of the enigma. Hardly had an hour elapsed when Mr. Morris returned utterly trans formed, — his face beaming, his manner con fident, his tones cheerful and decided. "I can tell you all about it now," he said, heartily. " We will not try at this term. You can see Waring and arrange a continu ance. We would like to start back in the morning." "You have had a telegram then, and I judge, good news?" "Yes and no," he answered with a laugh as he sank back into a chair and wiped his glowing face. I have had news, but no tele gram; but the communication was of a sort that always makes me happy. If you will allow me to close the door so that we shall not be interrupted, I will tell you all about it." He shut the door, and sitting down in the chair opposite me, said : — "I suppose, Mr. , that what I am about to say will half incline you to the be lief that you have a lunatic for a client, but I beg to assure you that I am in my right mind, and have no doubt that the result will justify the decision I have announced. My life since I left college has been wholly devoted to two things, my family and my business. I put the family first, because it really occupied the greater share of my thought. However, I liked the risk and ex citement of business life, and as you know, have been fairly successful. I never carried it home with me, and my wife, a frail, deli
cate woman, knew no more of that side of my nature than the speculators on " change" knew of my home. I had some losses, now and then, but no real reverses, and when, ten years ago, my wife died, it was my first sorrow. That blow took the sunshine out of my life. When I laid her in Green wood, and had carved upon her tombstone the words of the old Latin poet — ' Ilia fuit animae, Dimiduum meae,'
it told the simple truth. She was the ' twin of my soul,' or rather the other half. I had not thought that she had been so much to me; or what was left of me would be so purposeless and incoherent without her. We had two children, a girl of sixteen and a boy of seven. I had been as fond of them as most men are of their children, I sup pose, but their mother had been the central figure in the home, and without her they did not seem to mean much to me. I left my business and wandered about, not moody or consciously mourning, but simply dazed, purposeless, like one walking in his sleep. "Out of this condition I was stirred, I might almost say waked, by my daughter Esther, who dragged me back to my busi ness by asking questions and seeking to an swer them herself. I soon became inter ested in her interest, and after a time went back to my old life upon ' the street,' taking her with me; that is, she went at first to be sure that I did not forget myself in the selfish indulgence of retro spect. In a few months she had become enamored of business and showed an amaz ing aptitude for it. "This association brought us very close together. She shared my labors and I her joys. Never had I had such success; never had I gone into society so much. Five years this continued. She knew all about my affairs, and I leaned upon her counsel and advice as I never had upon her mother. Lovers sought her, but she manifested no inclination to leave me. I suppose the time
