Love stories; Success -- Fiction; United States -- Social life and customs -- Fiction; Youth -- Fiction
Deep currents of happiness coursed through him which were not all
because of the October sunlight and the laughing talk of Evelyn Porter.
He had that sensation of pleasure, always a joy to a man of conscience,
which is his self-approval for labor well performed. He had worked
faithfully ever since he had come to Clarkson; he had traveled much,
visiting the properties which the Neponset Trust Company had confided to
his care; and he had already so adjusted them that they earned enough to
pay taxes and expenses. He had effected a few sales, at prices which the
Neponset's clients were glad to accept. He had never been so happy in
his work. He had rather grudgingly taken this afternoon off; but here he
was, laughing with Evelyn Porter over an amusing adventure that had
befallen them, and which, as they talked of it and kept referring to it,
seemed to establish between them a real comradeship. He wondered what
Raridan would say, and he resolved that he would not tell him of the
hasty termination of his golfing; probably Miss Porter would prefer not
to have the incident mentioned. He even thought that he would not tell
Raridan that she had driven him to town. It was not for him to interpose
between Warry Raridan, a man who had brought him the sweetest
friendship he had ever known, and the girl whom fate had clearly
appointed Warry to marry.
As they turned into the main highway leading townward, a trap came
rapidly toward them.
"Miss Margrave's trap," said Evelyn, as they espied it.
The figures were not yet distinguishable, though Mabel's belongings were
always unmistakable.
"Then that must be one of 'The Men'?"
John was angry at himself the moment he had spoken, for as the trap came
nearer there was no doubt of the identity of Mabel's companion. It was
Warry. Evelyn bowed and smiled as they passed. Mabel gave the quick nod
that she was introducing in Clarkson; Saxton and Raridan lifted their
hats.
"Miss Margrave has a lot of style; don't you think so, Mr. Saxton?"
"Apparently, yes; but I don't know her, you know;" and he wondered.
Public-domain text, read in full here on John Shaqi.
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