"The convalescent children of the poor! It would be difficult to think of a more praiseworthy object. To bring roses back to little pale cheeks, and the sparkle to dull eyes! Those who have thought harshly of Simeon Deaves owe him a silent apology. Perhaps while people reviled him, he has been carrying out many a good work in secret. Perhaps that was his way of enjoying a joke at the expense of his detractors.
"When approached to-day Mr. Deaves with characteristic modesty, refused to say a word on the subject, referring all inquiries to his associate Mr. Verplanck. Mr. Verplanck said: (Add interview Verplanck.)"
Deaves rose out of his chair. His gaze was a little wild. "Do you suppose—they would really print that—about my father?" he gasped.
"They say they will," said Evan with a disinterested air.
"I—I can't believe it! It's a joke of some kind!"
"It's worth trying. They don't ask for anything."
"What am I to do?" cried Deaves distractedly.
"Put it up to your father."
"He would never consent!"
"Why not? The money's gone anyway. He might as well have the reputation of a philanthropist. Won't cost any more."