deal more than faint. On the 20th of August I took the afternoon train to
spend my two weeks' holiday at Lenox; and during much of the journey I
gazed at the Wall Street edition of the afternoon paper that I had
purchased as I came through the Grand Central Station. Ethel and I read
it in the evening."

"'I wonder what she's buying now?' said Ethel, vindictively."

"'Well, I can't help feeling sorry for her,' I answered, with as much of
a smile as I could produce."

"'That is so unnecessary, Richard! She can easily afford to gratify her
gambling instinct.'"

"'There you go, Ethel, inventing millions for her just as you invented
grandchildren.'"

"'Not at all. Unless she constantly had money lying idle, she could not
take these continual plunges. She is an old woman with few expenses, and
she lives well within her income. You would hear of her entertaining if
it was otherwise. So instead of conservatively investing her surplus, she
makes ducks and drakes of it in her son's office. Is he at Hyde Park
now?' Hyde Park was where the old Beverly country seat had always been."

"'No,' I answered. 'He went to Europe early last month.'"

"'Very likely he took her with him. She is probably at Monte Carlo.'"

"'Scarcely in August, I fancy. And I'll tell you what, Ethel. I have been
counting it up. She has lost twenty-four thousand dollars in the Standard