From the Housetops | Page 2

bishop for the luxuries of both
the present and the future life, and it had seldom failed to wither and
blight the most hardy of masculine opponents. It was not always so
effective in crushing the members of her own sex, for there were
women in New York society who could look straight through Mrs.
Tresslyn without even appearing to suspect that she was in the range of
vision. She had been known, however, to stare an English duke out of
countenance, and it was a long time before she forgave herself for
doing so. It would appear that it is not the proper thing to do. Crushing
the possessor of a title is permissible only among taxi-drivers and
gentlemen whose daughters are already married.
Her stony look did not go far toward intimidating young Mr. Thorpe.
He was a rather sturdy, athletic looking fellow with a firm chin and a
well-set jaw, and a pair of grey eyes that were not in the habit of
wavering.
"I came here to see Anne," he said, a stubborn expression settling in his
face. "Is she afraid to see me, or is she obeying orders from you, Mrs.
Tresslyn?"
"She doesn't care to see you," said Mrs. Tresslyn. "That's all there is to
be said about it, Braden."
"So far as I am concerned, she is still engaged to me. She hasn't broken
it off by word or letter. If you don't mind, I'd like to have it broken off
in the regular way. It doesn't seem quite proper for her to remain
engaged to me right up to the instant she marries my grandfather. Or is

it possible that she intends to remain bound to me during the lifetime of
my grandparent, with the idea of holding me to my bargain when he is
gone?"
"Don't be ridiculous," was all that Mrs. Tresslyn said in response to this
sarcasm, but she said it scathingly.
For a full minute they stood looking into each other's eyes, each
appraising the other, one offensively, the other defensively. She had the
advantage of him, for she was prepared to defend herself while he was
in the position of one who attacks without strategy and leaps from one
exposed spot to another. It was to her advantage that she knew that he
despised her; it was to his disadvantage that he knew she had always
liked him after a manner of her own, and doubtless liked him now
despite the things he had said to her. She had liked him from his
boyhood days when report had it that he was to be the sole heir to his
grandfather's millions, and she had liked him, no doubt, quite as
sincerely, after the old man had declared that he did not intend to ruin a
brilliant career by leaving a lot of uninspiring money to his ambitious
grandson.
In so many words, old Templeton Thorpe had said, not two months
before, that he intended to leave practically all of his money to charity!
All except the two millions he stood ready to settle upon his bride the
day she married him! Possibly Mrs. Tresslyn liked the grandson all the
more for the treasures that he had lost, or was about to lose. It is easy to
like a man who will not be pitied. At any rate, she did not consider it
worth while to despise him, now that he had only a profession to offer
in exchange for her daughter's hand.
"Of course, Mrs. Tresslyn, I know that Anne loves me," he said, with
forced calmness. "She doesn't love my grandfather. That isn't even
debatable. I fear that I am the only person in the world who does love
him. I suspect, too, that if he loves any one, I am that one. If you think
that he is fool enough to believe that Anne loves him, you are vastly
mistaken. He knows perfectly well that she doesn't, and, by gad, he
doesn't blame her. He understands. That's why he sits there at home and
chuckles. I hope you will not mind my saying to you that he considers

me a very lucky person."
"Lucky?" said she, momentarily off her guard.
"If you care to hear exactly how he puts it, he says I'm damned lucky,
Mrs. Tresslyn. Of course, you are not to assume that I agree with him.
If I thought all this was Anne's doing and not yours, I should say that I
am lucky, but I can't believe--good heavens, I will not believe that she
could do such a thing! A young, beautiful, happy girl voluntarily--oh, it
is unspeakable! She is being driven into it, she is being sacrificed to--"
"Just one moment, Braden," interrupted Mrs. Tresslyn, curtly. "I may
as well set you