Again Jacob Dolph strode to the window and back again, staring hard at the carpet, and knitting his brows. Mr. Van Riper waited in undisturbed calm until his friend spoke once more. "I might as well tell you the truth, Van Riper," he said, at last; "I've made a fool of myself. I've lost money, and I've got to pocket the loss. As to borrowing, I've borrowed all I ought to borrow. I _won't_ mortgage the house. This sale simply represents the hole in my capital." Something like a look of surprise came into Mr. Van Riper's wintry eyes. "It's none of my business, of course," he observed; "but if you haven't any objection to telling me----" "What did it? What does for everybody nowadays? Western lands and Wall Street--that's about the whole story. Oh, yes, I know--I ought to have kept out of it. But I didn't. I was nothing better than a fool at such business. I'm properly punished." He sighed as he stood on the hearthrug, his hands under his coat-tails, and his head hanging down. He looked as though many other thoughts were going through his mind than those which he expressed. "I wish," he began again, "that my poor old father had brought me up to business ways. I might have kept out of it all. College is a good thing for a man, of course; but college doesn't teach you how to buy lots in western cities--especially when the western cities aren't built." "College teaches you a good many other things, though," said Van Riper, frowning slightly, as he put the tips of his long fingers together; "I wish I'd had your chance, Dolph. _My_ boy shall go to Columbia, that's certain." "_Your_ boy?" queried Dolph, raising his eyebrows. Van Riper smiled. "Yes," he said, "my boy. You didn't know I had a boy, did you? He's nearly a year old." This made Mr. Jacob Dolph kick at the rug once more, and scowl a little. "I'm afraid I haven't been very neighborly, Van Riper--" he began; but the other interrupted him, smiling good-naturedly. "You and I go different ways, Dolph," he said. "We're plain folks over in Greenwich Village, and you--you're a man of fashion." Jacob Dolph smiled--not very mirthfully. Van Riper's gaze travelled around the room, quietly curious. "It costs money to be a man of fashion, doesn't it?" "Yes," said Dolph, "it does." There was silence for a minute, which Van Riper broke. "If you've got to sell, Dolph, why, it's a pity; but I'll take it. I'll see Ogden to-day, and we can finish the business whenever you wish. But in my opinion, you'd do better to borrow." Dolph shook his head. "I've been quite enough of a fool," he replied. "Well," said Mr. Van Riper, rising, "I must get to the office. You'll hear from Ogden to-morrow. I'm sorry you've got in such a snarl; but--" his lips stretched into something like a smile--"I suppose you'll know better next time. Good-day." * * * * * After Mr. Dolph had bowed his guest to the door, Mrs. Dolph slipped down the stairs and into the drawing-room.