“My afternoon was quite spoilt, and I had come up from New York on purpose,” complained Charlie, the next day, to Mamie; and by this time the speech was really true. Courting is a pleasant sport while it lasts, and Miss Livingstone was a very pretty, bright young girl; and had it been merely flirting--but, as time went on, Townley began to take some interest in the chase for the game’s sake, and not for sport only. And Charlie had come up for a special purpose, which was to get Miss Mamie to go with him to the first meet of the Bronx hounds, to be held at their kennels in the Sands country the following Tuesday. The day before, they had a great scene in the office. Mr. Tamms had for several weeks been off in regions unknown to Wall Street, upon his own vacation, and had just returned. Hardly had he torn open and roughly disposed of his morning mail, when in came Deacon Remington. “I am informed that Mr. Tamms is returned,” he announced. “I desire to see him.” “How do you do, Deacon Remington?” said Charlie, stepping forward. “I haven’t seen you since Ocean Grove, I think,” he added, politely. “I desire to have an interview with Mr. Tamms.” The Deacon continued to speak with precision, ignoring Charlie’s courtesies as uncalled for and unbusinesslike. “Mr. Tamms is in his private office, I think,” said Charlie, blandly. And he inducted the earnest Deacon into that apartment, and closed the door upon him, with much the feeling that one has who shuts up a monkey in a parrot-cage. This done, Charlie resumed his desk and his occupation, which latter was nothing more arduous than the writing of a note to Mamie Livingstone. “Everybody will be there,” he wrote; “and I hope----” In a few minutes the door was opened, and Mr. Tamms came out. “Mr. Townley,” he said in flute-like tones; “will you kindly step in for a moment?” “Certainly, sir,” said Charlie. He went in, and the door was closed behind them. The pious Deacon was sitting upon the lounge on one corner, with folded wings, like a large blue-bottle. “I wish you to tell Deacon Remington under what circumstances the house of Townley & Tamms were compelled to meet the deficit in the Starbuck Terminal bonds and avert foreclosure. Do you remember anything about it?” “Certainly, sir,” said Charlie. He hesitated a moment, but was much too clever to seem to look to Tamms for the cue. “It was by order of Mr. Townley himself.” “Do you remember the day?” “It was the day after my return from Long Branch--three days after our drive to Ocean Grove.” “You see, Deacon?” said Tamms, in the meek tones of a Christian unjustly wronged. “Oh, yes, I see,” said the Deacon. “And am I right in stating that Mr. Townley’s attitude was most peremptory?” Charlie nodded. “That he went so far as to threaten a dissolution of partnership unless his orders were instantly complied with?” “He made me mail the circulars and send one out over the tape the same afternoon,” said Charlie.