whiskers and a beaming smile. "General Montague's son!" he
exclaimed, as he pressed the young man's hands. "Why, why--I'm
surprised! Why have we never seen you before?"

Montague explained that he had only been in New York about six
hours. "Oh, I see," said the Judge. "And shall you remain long?"

"I have come to stay," was the reply.

"Well, well!" said the other, cordially. "Then we may see more of
you. Are you going into business?"

"I am a lawyer," said Montague. "I expect to practise."

The Judge's quick glance had been taking the measure of the tall,
handsome man before him, with his raven-black hair and grave
features. "You must give us a chance to try your mettle," he said;
and then, as others approached to meet him, and he was forced to
pass on, he laid a caressing hand on Montague's arm, whispering,
with a sly smile, "I mean it."

Montague felt his heart beat a little faster. He had not welcomed
his brother's suggestion--there was nothing of the sycophant in him;
but he meant to work and to succeed, and he knew what the favour of
a man like Judge Ellis would mean to him. For the Judge was the idol
of New York's business and political aristocracy, and the doorways
of fortune yielded at his touch.

There were rows of chairs in one of the rooms, and here two or three
hundred men were gathered. There were stands of battle-flags in the