The Lever | Page 4

which defied complete analysis. Behind the impassive exterior there was a suggestion of latent reserve force, but it was not until some thought or word penetrated below the surface that the real man was revealed. Then it was that the impassive face lighted up, that the quiet gray eyes flashed fire, that the head bent forward decisively, and the strong-willed, large-brained leader of men stood forth.
Covington, on the other hand, ten years Gorham's junior, was slight, though tall, and was always, in manner, speech, and dress, most carefully adjusted. He was an organizer of men, as Gorham was the organizer of companies. Gorham worked so quietly that his purpose seemed to accomplish itself; Covington won his success by a pitiless force which left flotsam in its wake. Gorham was beloved and trusted, Covington was respected for his abilities but dreaded by his subordinates. It had been necessary for Gorham to supplement himself with a man who possessed the genius of taking hold of the individual organizations assimilated by the Consolidated Companies, and amalgamating those engaged in similar lines into perfect, economic wholes; and Covington's rare service had proved the wisdom of Gorham's selection.
Covington noted Alice's disappointment when her father cut short their interview upon her entrance, though Gorham himself was entirely oblivious to it.
"I'll tell you all about it when we meet next time," he said to her in a low tone as he was leaving. "It is always an inspiration to me to talk these matters over with you."
Alice smiled gratefully but started at the word he used. This man, acknowledged by her father to be one of the cleverest in the business world, said that she was an "inspiration" to him. Could this be possible! This, then, was what Eleanor had meant, this was woman's mission. But still, she insisted to herself, she would rather be the recipient than the giver.
As Covington left the room Gorham turned to Alice. "Now I can give myself wholly to you," he said, holding out his arms affectionately.
"Why did you stop talking with Mr. Covington as soon as I came in?" Alice asked, reproachfully. "Was it a private matter?"
"No indeed," he laughed, patting her affectionately on the head; "it was just plain business."
"But I wanted to hear it," she persisted.
"It would have meant nothing to you," her father answered. "If you had been my son that would be different, but a woman's sphere is outside the business world. Leave that to the men. Now tell me what has happened to-day."
Alice knew her father too well to persist further. "Eleanor and I met Allen Sanford while we were out driving this afternoon," she said.
"Did you?" he asked, with interest. "I knew he was in Washington and should have told you. His father wrote me about him last week, and I was planning to invite him here. How has he developed since we used to know him?"
"Splendidly," Alice answered. "He's a big strapping fellow with the same handsome, happy face. I should have known him anywhere. He wants to get started in business, and his father wants him to go into the diplomatic service."
"So Stephen wrote me." Gorham laughed quietly, turning to his wife, who had entered a moment before with Patricia. "The boy's father is the worst enemy he has. He has thoroughly spoiled him all his life, and now expects him to do great things. He scores him because he has no initiative, and the first time the youngster tries to exercise it by expressing his preference for business instead of diplomacy, Stephen calls him obstinate and ungrateful. Now he wants me to talk with Allen and persuade him that his father is right."
"If you are not otherwise engaged you'll have a chance to-morrow evening," remarked Mrs. Gorham; "we have invited him to dine with us."
"Good; I shall be glad to see the boy, and can acquit myself of my obligation to his father at the same time. Hello, Mistress Patricia," he added, catching the child in his arms. "What has my little tyrant been up to?"
"Call me 'Lady Pat,'" she said, grandly. "He named me that."
"Who did?" her father asked, his mind diverted from the previous conversation.
"Mr. Sanford." Patricia rolled her eyes impressively. "Oh, he's the grandest thing! He must be a prince in disguise."
"That isn't what his father calls him," laughed Gorham.
"What are you going to advise him?" Eleanor asked.
"I can't tell until I see him and discover how much imagination he has."
"Imagination?" his wife queried.
"Yes; is that a new idea to you? Ability never asserts itself to its utmost unless fed by the imagination, and I don't know yet whether Allen possesses either. Success in any line depends upon the extent of a man's power of imagination."
"Then why don't poets make business successes? They have imaginative ideas," argued Alice,