The Lever | Page 2

Alice this chance meeting recalled a time in
her life sanctified by the loss of her mother, later made easier to look
back upon by the rare sympathy which had existed from the first
between herself and the sweet, tactful woman who had come into her
life, filling the aching void and awakening her to a new interest in her
surroundings. She and Allen had been "chums" in those early days, and
it gratified her to discover that the boy whom she had admired in a
childish way had become a young man so agreeable to look upon and
so little changed, except in growth, from the lad she remembered. His
six feet of height carried him to a greater altitude than of old, his
well-developed arms and shoulders showed a physical strength which
his youth had not promised, but his face wore the same frank, care-free,
irresponsible and good-natured expression which had made him
beloved by all his acquaintances and taken seriously by none.
Allen's smile returned before he found his voice, and was so infectious
that Alice, Mrs. Gorham, and Patricia were also smiling broadly.
"It's awfully good to see you again, Alice," he said, with a sincerity
which could not be doubted; "and to meet you, too, Mrs. Gorham, not

forgetting Lady Pat." And then, as if in explanation, "You see, as Alice
says, she and I were pals when we were youngsters in Pittsburgh, and I
can't realize that now she's grown up into such a--"
"Do you remember the games of baseball we used to play together?"
Alice interrupted.
"Indeed I do," he responded. "She could throw a ball overhand just like
a boy," Allen continued, turning to Mrs. Gorham lest he seem to
discriminate in his attentions.
"She can't do it now, but I can," Patricia remarked, with an air of
superiority, subsiding as Alice glanced meaningly at her.
"And once you thrashed Jim Thatcher for calling me a tomboy. Oh, I
looked upon you as a real story-book hero!"
"I suspect that's the only time on record." Allen laughed again
consciously. "That's one epithet I haven't had hurled at me enough
times to make me nervous." He looked at the horses critically. "You
don't suppose there's any chance of a runaway here to give me another
opportunity, do you?"
"How about the football games, and the races at New London?" Alice
asked.
"What do you know about those?"
"I read all about everything in the papers. Your father was so proud that
he told my father and every one about your college record; so, you see,
your friends had no difficulty in keeping posted."
"My father was proud of me?" Allen demanded, in genuine
astonishment. "Haven't you gotten things a little mixed? That doesn't
sound like the pater at all. He didn't boast any of my record in my
studies, did he?"
"Father didn't say." Alice leaned forward mischievously. "Did you get

your degree cum laude, Allen?"
"Not exactly," he answered, frankly. "Cum difficultate would be more
like it; but I got it, anyhow."
"And what have you been doing since?" Mrs. Gorham asked.
"I went abroad right after Commencement."
"To perfect yourself in the languages?"
"Well"--the boy hesitated--"that may have been the pater's intention,
but he didn't state it audibly. As a matter of fact, I perfected myself in
running an automobile more than anything else, but I had a corking
good time."
"And now what? You see how inquisitive I am," Alice said.
"And now"--he repeated it after her--"I want to go into business, and
the pater says diplomacy for mine. We've had lots of arguments over it,
until we finally compromised it just as we usually do--by my doing it
his way. So here I am in Washington, awaiting my country's call, ready
to steer the great U.S.A. through any old international complication
they can scare up. But I mustn't keep you and Mrs. Gorham here any
longer. It is just fine to see you again."
"You will come and see us at the hotel," Mrs. Gorham said, warmly
seconded by Alice. "Won't you dine with us to-morrow evening? Mr.
Gorham will be glad to hear about you from yourself."
To-morrow evening seemed far away to Allen, so he supplemented Mrs.
Gorham's invitation by a suggestion that they take a motor ride with
him the following afternoon, which brought the time of their meeting
that much nearer.
For some little time after Allen's machine had disappeared Alice and
Mrs. Gorham continued their drive in silence, and it was Patricia who
spoke first.

"Isn't he the grandest thing?" she remarked. "He's just like one of King
Arthur's knights. And he called me 'Lady Pat.'"
"You dear child," Eleanor cried, impulsively pressing the little form to
her.
"That is exactly what I ought to be,"