finance and love of such a person as Warrington, the eyes of the
press were all-seeing.

"Yes," I answered carefully, "that's the Miss Winslow. What do you
know of her?"

"Well," he replied, fumbling among the papers on his desk, "all I
know is that in the social set to which she belongs our society
reporters say that of all the young fellows who have set out to
capture her--and she's a deuced pretty girl, even in the pictures
we have published--it seems to have come down to Mortimer
Warrington and Angus Forbes. Of course, as far as we newspapermen
are concerned, the big story for us would be in the engagement of
young Warrington. The eyes of people are fixed on him just now--
the richest young man in the country, and all that sort of thing,
you know. Seems to be a pretty decent sort of fellow, too, I
believe--democratic and keen on other things besides tango and
tennis. Oh, there's the thing I was hunting for. Mrs. de Lancey's
a nut on gambling, I believe. Read that. It's a letter that came
to us from her this morning."

It was written in the stilted handwriting of a generation ago and
read:

"To the Editor of the Star, Dear Sir:--I believe that your paper
prides itself on standing for reform and against the grafters. If
that is so, why do you not join in the crusade to suppress
gambling in New York? For the love that you must still bear
towards your own mother, listen to the stories of other mothers
torn by anxiety for their sons and daughters, and if there is any