large dinner. His grandfather had been dead less than a month, and
society was somewhat scandalized by the plain symptoms of
disrespect he was showing. No one had expected him to observe a
prolonged season of mourning, but that he should disregard the
formalities completely was rather shocking. Some of the older
people, who had not long to live and who had heirs-apparent,
openly denounced his heartlessness. It was not very gratifying to
think of what might be in store for them if all memories were as
short as Brewster's. Old Mrs. Ketchell changed her will, and two
nephews were cut off entirely; a very modest and impecunious
grandson of Joseph Garrity also was to sustain a severe change of
fortune in the near future, if the cards spoke correctly. Judge
Van Woort, who was not expected to live through the night, got
better immediately after hearing some one in the sick-room whisper
that Montgomery Brewster was to give a big dinner. Naturally, the
heirs-to-be condemned young Brewster in no uncertain terms.

Nevertheless, the dinner to be given by the grandson of old Edwin
Peter Brewster was the talk of the town, and not one of the sixty
invited guests could have been persuaded to miss it. Reports as to
its magnificence were abroad long before the night set for the
dinner. One of them had it that it was to cost $3,000 a plate.
From that figure the legendary price receded to a mark as low as
$500. Montgomery would have been only too glad to pay $3,000 or
more, but some mysterious force conveyed to his mind a perfect
portrait of Swearengen Jones in the act of putting down a large
black mark against him, and he forbore.

"I wish I knew whether I had to abide by the New York or the
Montana standard of extravagance," Brewster said to himself. "I