The Quicksands of Pactolus, Parts X-XI [pp. 513-529]

THE QUICKSANDS OF PACTOLUS.
enough his smoking cigarettes on the
sly, and cigars too. If anyone ever de served the rod he did, but Papa ruled us
by love not fear."
Mr. Barrington had listened moodily to
this discussion, but at these words his
brow cleared. Chetwynd admired the
girl's tact. It was not the first time in
his experience that she had smoothed out
the paternal wrinkles.
"Thank you, Helen. I have endeavored to act towards my children as the
United States Government acts towards
her citizens. I trusted to their ultimate
common sense. I believe in what Carnegie calls' Triumphant Democracy.'
We are making mistakes, but we know
how to profit by them. You see we have
just turned out Cleveland."
He laughed good-temperedly. Chetwynd and he had sparred more than once
upon the vexed question of Protection.
Chetwynd was an out and out free
trader, and the millionaire, a Blaine man.
"But," there was an ominous change
in his voice, and Count Van der Bock,
who had been taking to Mrs. Travers,
suddenly pricked up his ears, "our government has shown what it can do when
pushed to the wall, and I think there is
the same stern spirit of discipline in me.
For instance, if one of my children were
to grievously offend me, I should certainly pluck him, or her, from my heart,
no matter what the wrench might be to
my feelings."
Again Helen skilfully turned the subject.
"We were speaking," said she lightly,
of superficial omniscience being required of society men. I want further
evidence. Mr. Desmond, are you, or are
you not, superficially omniscient?" She
turned to Desmond, who sat upon her
left.
"I like society," said Desmond, "but
first and foremost I count myself a busi VOL. XXVi.-42.
ness man. My affairs require my con stant attention."
Mr. Barrington applauded these senti ments with an Olympian nod. Desmond
had brought capital letters from Los
Angeles, but a better passport in favor
of his host was the fact that he had
opened an office down town, kept regu lar hours, and was regarded already as a
shrewd speculator in Market Street property. Moreover, he was the fortunate
possessor of a tenor voice. He warbled
effectively in the best houses and his
high B flatwas in constant demand. Tonight he wore the white satin waistcoat
which had moved Helen to mockery, and
in the center of his shirt front blazed a
conspicuous stud, a sapphire surrounded
by brilliants. He was undeniably handsome and well built. His face was large
and red, sleekly red, and his feet and
hands showed good breeding. Old Desmond, his father, was a cadet of one of
the best families in Ireland, but he had
married beneath him. Mrs. Travers, as
High Priestess of Society, could remember Mrs. Desmond as a vulgar, overdressed creature, flaunting her velvets
and diamonds in the day time; objectionably handsome in the most florid style
and detestably illiterate. The mausoleum,
where she lies embalmed in a leaden
coffin, is one of the sights of Los Angeles!
Helen Barrington received the homage
of this young gentleman with ill-concealed impatience. His attentions annoyed her. His love-making was quite
as conspicuous as the white satin waistcoat, and besides, Chetwynd was talking very earnestly to Madame Van der
Bock and Helen could not catch a word
of the conversation. Under this stress
of circumstances a little acidity on her
part may be forgiven.
"You have not answered my question, Mr, Desmond. Are you superficially omniscient?"
517