"I am inclined to think Tommy will rise." (Mrs. Carriswood
was describing the interview to her cousin, the next day.)
"What do you think he said to me last of all? 'How,' said he,
'does a man, a gentleman'--it had a touch of the pathetic,
don't you know, the little hesitation he made on the word--'how does
he show his gratitude to a lady who has done him a great service?'
'Young or old?' I said. 'Oh, a married lady,' he said,
'very much admired, who has been everywhere.' Wasn't that clever
of him? I told him that a man usually sent a few flowers.
You saw the basket to-day--evidently regardless of expense.
And fancy, there was a card, a card with a gilt edge and his name
written on it."

"The card was his mother's. She has visiting cards, now, and pays
visits once a year in a livery carriage. Poor Mrs. Fitzmaurice,
she is always so scared; and she is such a good soul!
Tommy is very good to her."

"How about the father? Does he still keep that 'nice' saloon?"

"Yes; but he talks of retiring. They are not poor at all,
and Tommy is their only child; the others died. It is hard
on the old man to retire, for he isn't so very old in fact,
but if he once is convinced that his calling stands in the way
of Tommy's career, he won't hesitate a second."

"Poor people," said Mrs. Carriswood; "do you know, Grace, I can
see Tommy's future; he will grow to be a boss, a political boss.
He will become rich by keeping your streets always being cleaned--
which means never clean--and giving you the worst fire department