"United States?" put in Mr. McEachern, with an eagerness which
broadened his questioner's friendly smile, as the Honorable Louis
Wesson came toward them.

"Well, I'm not after saying it was not a wrinch at firrst, but I
considered it best to lave Wall Street--Wall Street, ye understand,
before----"

"I see. Before you fell a victim to the feverish desire for reckless
speculation which is so marked a characteristic of the American
business man, what?"

"That's it," said the other, relieved.

"I, too, have been speculating," said Mr. Wesson, "as to whether you
would care to show me the rose garden, Miss McEachern, as you promised
yesterday. Of all flowers, I love roses best. You remember Bryant's
lines, Miss McEachern? 'The rose that lives its little hour is prized
beyond the sculptured flower.'"

Jimmy interposed firmly. "I'm very sorry," he said, "but the fact is
Miss McEachern has just promised to take me with her to feed the
fowls.

"I gamble on fowls," he thought. "There must be some in a high-class
establishment of this kind."

"I'd quite forgotten," said Molly.