Ask her mother, who married at fifteen. Ask the father, who for ten years worried to think his only child might go away from him at any day. "I tell you," says Dr. Tarpion, "Harpwood will get her, and get her to-night. That is what this party is for. I've seen them together, and I know what's in the air." "Is that so?" says David Lockwin. "Yes, it is so, and you know you don't like Harpwood any too well since he got your primary in the Eleventh." "I should say I didn't!" says Lockwin, half to himself. At a distance, Esther Wandrell passes on Harpwood's arm. "Who is Harpwood?" asks Lockwin. "I'm blessed if I know," answers Dr. Tarpion. "How long has he been in town?" "Not over two years." "Do you know anybody who knows him?" "He owes me a bill." "What was he sick of?" "Worry." The man and woman repass. The woman looks toward Lockwin and his dear friend the renowned Dr. Irenaeus Tarpion. Guests speak of Harpwood. His suit is bold. The lady is apparently interested. "I should not think you would like that?" says the doctor. "Why should I care, after all?" asks Lockwin. "Well, if ever I have seen two men whose destinies are hostile, it seems to me that you and Harpwood fill the condition. If he gets into Wandrell's family you might as well give up politics." "Perhaps I might do that anyhow." "Well, you are an odd man. I'll not dispute that. What you will do at any given time I'll not try to prophesy." The twain separate. However, of any two men in Chicago, perhaps David Lockwin and Dr. Tarpion are most agreeable to each other. From boyhood they have been familiar. If one has said to the other, "Do that!" it has been done. "I fear you cannot be spared from your other guests, Esther," says Lockwin. "I fear you are trying to escape to that dear doctor of yours. Now, are you not?" "No. I have been with him for half an hour already. Esther, you are a fine-looking woman. Upon my honor, now--" She will not tolerate it, yet she never looked so pleased before. "Tell me," she says, "of your little boy." "Of my foundling?" "Yes, I love to hear you speak of him." "Well, Esther, the truest thing I have heard of my boy was said by old Richard Tarbelle. He stopped me the other day. You know our houses adjoin. 'Mr. Lockwin,' said he, as he came home with his basket--he goes to his son's hotel each day for family stores--'I often say to Mary that the happiest moment in my day is when I give an apple or an orange to your boy, for the look on that child's face is the nearest we ever get to heaven on this earth." "O, beautiful! beautiful! Mr. Lockwin."