balance. But his heart was as light as the day. Had he not
youth? Had he not health? Had he not looks to bewitch the
women, brains to outwit the men? Feuerstein sniffed the
delightful air and gazed round, like a king in the midst of
cringing subjects. ``I feel that this is one of my lucky days,''
said he to himself. An aristocrat, a patrician, a
Hochwohlgeboren, if ever one was born.

At the Fourteenth-Street crossing he became conscious that a
young man was looking at him with respectful admiration and with
the anxiety of one who fears a distinguished acquaintance has
forgotten him. Feuerstein paused and in his grandest, most
gracious manner, said: ``Ah! Mr. Hartmann--a glorious day!''

Young Hartmann flushed with pleasure and stammered, ``Yes--a
GLORIOUS day!''

``It is lucky I met you,'' continued Feuerstein. ``I had an
appointment at the Cafe Boulevard at four, and came hurrying away
from my lodgings with empty pockets--I am so absent-minded.
Could you convenience me for a few hours with five dollars? I'll
repay you to-night--you will be at Goerwitz's probably? I
usually look in there after the theater.''

Hartmann colored with embarrassment.

``I'm sorry,'' he said humbly, ``I've got only a two-dollar bill.
If it would--''

Feuerstein looked annoyed. ``Perhaps I can make that do. Thank