Then Capes’ footsteps approached. After he had eaten dinner with Ruth, he had gone to McClintock's; and he had heard music such as he had heard only in the great concert halls. After fifteen years, to find that peculiarly Occidental attribute—college loyalty—still alive in his heart! A Western idea that had survived; an idea that was merely the flower of youthful enthusiasm! With his hands still in his sleeves, his chin down in speculation over this phenomenon, he continued his patrol. With the broken links of the chain, which served him in lieu of more efficient implements, he commenced operations just above the chimney-piece, and soon contrived to pick a hole in the plaster. ‘Well, what was I to think, miss? Martha never wrote nothing about you, and I did ask. Do you know whoso portrait this is?" "I do not," replied Thames, repressing his tears, "but I believe it to be the portrait of my father. “Why not?” He repeated, demanding. "In case he should consent—" "He never will," interrupted Winifred.
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