Lester returned to Chicago. He realized that he had offended his father seriously, how seriously he could not say. In all his personal relations with old Archibald he had never seen him so worked up. But even now Lester did not feel that the breach was irreparable; he hardly realized that it was necessary for him to act decisively if he hoped to retain his father’s affection and confidence. As for the world at large, what did it matter how much people talked or what they said. He was big enough to stand alone. But was he? People turn so quickly from weakness or the shadow of it. To get away from failure—even the mere suspicion of it—that seems to be a subconscious feeling with the average man and woman; we all avoid non-success as though we fear that it may prove contagious. Lester was soon to feel the force of this prejudice. One day Lester happened to run across Berry Dodge, the millionaire head of Dodge, Holbrook & Kingsbury, a firm that stood in the dry-goods world, where the Kane Company stood in the carriage world. Dodge had been one of Lester’s best friends. He knew him as intimately as he knew Henry Bracebridge, of Cleveland, and George Knowles, of Cincinnati. He visited at his handsome home on the North Shore Drive, and they met constantly in a business and social way. But since Lester had moved out to Hyde Park, the old intimacy had lapsed. Now they came face to face on Michigan Avenue near the Kane building. “Why, Lester, I’m glad to see you again,” said Dodge. He extended a formal hand, and seemed just a little cool. “I hear you’ve gone and married since I saw you.” “No, nothing like that,” replied Lester, easily, with the air of one who prefers to be understood in the way of the world sense. “Why so secret about it, if you have?” asked Dodge, attempting to smile, but with a wry twist to the corners of his mouth. He was trying to be nice, and to go through a difficult situation gracefully. “We fellows usually make a fuss about that sort of thing. You ought to let your friends know.” “Well,” said Lester, feeling the edge of the social blade that was being driven into him, “I thought I’d do it in a new way. I’m not much for excitement in that direction, anyhow.” “It is a matter of taste, isn’t it?” said Dodge a little absently. “You’re living in the city, of course?” “In Hyde Park.” “That’s a pleasant territory. How are things otherwise?” And he deftly changed the subject before waving him a perfunctory farewell. Lester missed at once the inquiries which a man like Dodge would have made if he had really believed that he was married. Under ordinary circumstances his friend would have wanted to know a great deal about the new Mrs. Kane. There would have been all those little familiar touches common to people living on the same social plane. Dodge would have asked Lester to bring his wife over to see them, would have definitely promised to call. Nothing of the sort happened, and Lester noticed the significant omission.