"I thought you would like to see the instruments of torture at work—the process of lamb-shearing in active operation," Williams explained as he shook hands and waved him into his private room. After a few easy remarks on the methods of doing business the broker continued, "I flatter myself that for so small an investment and so short a time, I have done tolerably well for you."
"I scarcely know how to express my thanks and my admiration for your skill. Indeed I feel rather awkwardly about—"
"That's all right, my dear fellow. It's my business; I get my commission. Still I admit friendly regard—and this is why I suggested your dropping in—by introducing the personal equation, makes one nervous. If instead of closing out your account, I had in each instance held on, you would have made more money. I was glad to take this responsibility at first because you were a neophyte at the business, but I think it will be more satisfactory both for you and for me that in future transactions you should give me the word when to reap the profit. Of course you shall have all the information which I possess and my advice will be at your command, but where a man's money is concerned his own head is apt to be the wisest counsellor. Now I took the liberty yesterday of selling for you two hundred shares of Reading railroad. You can cover to-day at a profit of one point—about $200. I do not urge it. On the contrary I believe that the market, barring occasional rallies, is still on the downward track. I wish, however, to put you in a position where you can, if you desire, take advantage of the full opportunities of the financial situation and save myself from feeling that I have robbed you by my friendly caution."
"In other words you don't wish to speculate with my money," said Littleton. "You wish me to paddle my own canoe."
Williams' real desire was to escape the bother of personally superintending an insignificant account. His circumlocution was a suave way of stating that he had done all that could be expected of a neighbor and benevolent friend, and that the ordinary relation of broker and customer ought now be established. As for Littleton, he perceived that he was not free to retire from the market on the profits of friendly regard unless he was prepared to fly in the face of advice and buy in his two hundred Reading railroad. To do so would be pusillanimous; moreover to retire and abstain from further dealings would make Williams' two cheques more obviously a charitable donation, and the thought of them was becoming galling. Above all there were Selma's feelings to be considered. The possession of the means to afford her happiness was already a sweet argument in favor of further experiments.
And so it happened that during the next nine months Littleton became a frequenter of the office of Williams & VanHorne. He was not among those who hung over the tape and were to be seen there daily; but he found himself attracted as the needle by the magnet to look in once or twice a week to ascertain the state of the market. His ventures continued to be small, and were conducted under the ken of Williams, and though the occasional rallies referred to by the broker harassed Wilbur's spirit when they occurred, the policy of selling short proved reasonably remunerative in the course of half a dozen separate speculations. In round figures he added another $2,500 to that which Williams had made for him. The process kept him on pins and needles, and led him to scan the list of stock quotations before reading anything else in the newspaper. Selma was delighted at his success, and though he chose not to tell her the details of his dealings, she watched him furtively, followed the general tendency of the market, and when she perceived that he was in good spirits, satisfied sufficiently her curiosity by questions.
On the strength of this addition to their pecuniary resources, Selma branched out into sundry mild extravagances. She augmented her wardrobe, engaged an additional house-maid and a more expensive cook, and entertained with greater freedom and elaboration. She was fond of going to the theatre and supping afterward at some fashionable restaurant where she could show her new plumage and be a part of the gay, chattering rout at the tables consuming soft-shelled crabs and champagne. She was gradually increasing her acquaintance, chiefly among the friends of the Williamses, people who were fond of display and luxury and who seemed to have plenty of money. In this connection she was glad to avail herself of the reputation of belonging to the literary circle, and she conceived the plan of mingling these new associates with Wilbur's former set—to her thinking a delightful scheme, which she inaugurated by means of a dinner party. She included among the guests Pauline and Dr. Page, and considered that she had acted gracefully in putting them side by side at table, thus sacrificing the theory of her entertainment to her feminine interest in romance. In her opinion it was more than Pauline deserved, and she was proud of her generosity. There were fourteen in the company, and after dinner they were regaled by a young woman who had brought a letter of introduction to Selma from Mrs. Earle, who read from her own poems. The dinner was given for her, and her seat was between Wilbur and Mr. Dennison, the magazine editor. Selma had attended a dinner-party at the Williamses a fortnight earlier where there had been music in the drawing-room by a ballad-singer at a cost of $100 (so Flossy had told her in confidence). A poetess reading from her own works, a guest and not invited in after dinner on a business footing, appealed to Selma as more American, and less expensive. She, in her secret soul, would have liked to recite herself, but she feared to run the gauntlet of the New York manner. The verses were intense in character and were delivered by the young woman with a hollow-eyed fervor which, as one of the non-literary wing of the company stated, made one creep and weep alternately. There was no doubt that the entertainment was novel and acceptable to the commercial element, and to Selma it seemed a delightful reminder of the Benham Institute. She was curious to know what Mr. Dennison thought, though she said to herself that she did not really care. She felt that anything free and earnest in the literary line was likely to be frowned on by the coterie to which her husband's people belonged. Nevertheless she seized an opportunity to ask the editor if he did not think the verses remarkable.
"They are certainly remarkable," answered Mr. Dennison. After a brief pause he added, "Being a strictly truthful person, Mrs. Littleton, I do not wish to seek shelter behind the rampart which your word 'remarkable' affords. A dinner may be remarkable—remarkably good, like the one I have just eaten, or remarkably bad. Some editors would have replied to you as I have done, and yet been capable of a mental reservation unflattering to the ambitious young woman to whom we have been listening. But without wishing to express an opinion, let me remind you that poetry, like point-lace, needs close scrutiny before its merits can be defined. I thought I recognized some ancient and well-worn flowers of speech, but my editorial ear and eye may have been deceived. She has beautiful hair at all events."
"'Fair tresses man's imperial race ensnare;
And beauty draws us by a single hair.'
"You cynical personage! I only hope she may prove a genius and that you will realize when too late that you might have discovered her," said Selma, looking into his face brightly with a knowing smile and tapping her fan against her hand. She was in a gay humor at the success of the entertainment, despite the non-committal attitude of this censor, and pleased at the appositeness of her quotation. Her figure had filled out since her marriage. She was almost plump and she wore a single short fat curl pendent behind her ear.