her presence, was dropping rapidly back toward the attitude as well as
the accent of "our set."

At his frank disclosure Mrs. Whitney congratulated herself on her
shrewdness so heartily that she betrayed it in her face; but Arthur did
not see. "I suppose your mother can do nothing with him." This was spoken
in a tone of conviction. She always felt that, if she had had Hiram to
deal with, she would have been fully as successful with him as she
thought she had been with Charles Whitney. She did not appreciate the
fundamental difference in the characters of the two men. Both were iron
of will; but there was in Whitney--and not in Hiram--a selfishness that
took the form of absolute indifference to anything and everything which
did not directly concern himself--his business or his physical comfort.
Thus his wife had had her way in all matters of the social career, and he
would have forced upon her the whole responsibility for the children if
she had not spared him the necessity by assuming it. He cheerfully paid
the bills, no matter what they were, because he thought his money's power
to buy him immunity from family annoyances one of its chief values. She,
and everyone else, thought she ruled him; in fact, she not only did not
rule him, but had not even influence with him in the smallest trifle of
the matters he regarded as important.

The last time he had looked carefully at her--many, many years before--he
had thought her beautiful; he assumed thenceforth that she was still
beautiful, and was therefore proud of her. In like manner he had made up
his mind favorably to his children. As the bills grew heavier and
heavier, from year to year, with the wife and two children assiduously
expanding them, he paid none the less cheerfully. "There is some
satisfaction in paying up for them," reflected he. "At least a man can
feel that he's getting his money's worth." And he contrasted his luck