Then, in the chemical reactions of his mind, something flashed! He would do something to attract the best element. That would bring in the mob. What begins by being fashionable always ends by being popular. Nobody had ever thought of making goodness a fad. Hence, poverty, and therefore wealth!
He would take the first step that night.
About 11 p.m. an excited feminine voice, without the slightest trace of Yiddish—indeed, more fashionable than a Fifth Avenue voice ever dared to be—called up, one after another, the city editors of the best papers and asked:
"Is it true that Grace Goodchild has eloped with Hendrik Rutgers?"
"We had not heard that—"
"It is not true! It is not true!" shrieked the voice in the highest pitch of dismay and rang on.
Having been told that it was not true, the city editors, after vainly trying to get the speaker again, honorably called up the Goodchild residence.
Nobody home!
That was enough corroboration for any intelligent man, but the city editors despatched their most reliable reporters to the former residence of the bride. Being prudent men, the editors prepared the photographs, and the head-line was all a matter of final punctuation: