"Thoroughly and genuinely funny."—Sporting Life.
"An exceedingly amusing story."—Dundee Advertiser.
CONTENTS
THE PRINCESS GALVA
CHAPTER I
TOO OLD AT FORTY
The waning light of an October evening shone on the reflectors outside the windows of the basement counting-house, and the clerk at the corner desk could barely discern that the clock on the green painted dusty wall pointed to a quarter to six.
In fifteen minutes Edward Povey's twenty-two years of devoted service in the interests of Messrs. Kyser, Schultz & Company would come to an end, and the desk in the corner to which he had been promoted fifteen years ago would by the immutable law of evolution pass into the possession of his junior. Edward noticed this junior now and the glances which that young man cast at the scratched and ink-stained slab of mahogany that was to constitute his kingdom of the morrow. Edward wondered dully whether the young man was as full of hope as he himself had been. Perhaps he was waiting to be married even as he, Edward, had waited fifteen years ago. In those days the era of the Young Man had not been so pronounced as it is to-day, and it had been death that had removed his predecessor.
Even now he could remember the chastened sorrow with which he mounted the high stool of his desire. He had propped open the desk and collected together the belongings of the deceased clerk, and posted them with a little note of sympathy to his widow. Some had seemed too trivial to send, and of these a few still remained, a battered soap-box, a small square of unframed looking-glass, its red back scratched and scored. These, together with the great ebony ruler, had now outlasted his own reign and would pass to the new-comer.