Bellefonte, Pa., June 12, 1908, CLAY FLEET. And Marjeson?'’ Steel asked; old “Chunky’’ Steel, as we osed to call him. I bad run down to see him, after ten years and we were calling the 10ll call of our old friends. “Married,” I said briefly. I did not mean to say more, for he had been the nearer friend of the two; bus Steel fixed bis eyes on me. ‘He married money,’ I added slowly. *‘And lived unhappily ever afterward?” Steel suggested. *‘I don’s know. I never go there.” “‘Husband’s friends not good enough for her?” ‘Oh, no! It isn’t that. She's civil enough. I shink she’s rather a good sort. It wasn’t her fault—I suppose it was my own for waking a little tin god of him.” ‘‘Ah!"’ Steel sighed. ‘‘Little tin gode always bave clay feet, Jobnny. I suppose he’s vo worse thau the rest of us.” ““The rest of us never pretended to be little tino gods. We were a little better than we made out, I think. Most decent men are."’ Steel nodded approvingly. “We were shy of our virtues,”’ he agreed. *‘Marjeson wasn’t. Do you remember bow he preached so us about ideals, and all that sort of thing? I can see him now, leaning forward in his chair.” Steel shaded his eyes with his hand, as if the memory hart him. ‘‘Most of us have ideals when we are young. I remember that yon and I were going to set the Thames on fire, Johnny. Thames is still wet; and Iam a comfortable country solicitor; and you are a comfortable stock-broker; and we're hoth growing stout, Johnny—confoundedly stout.” *‘Confoundedly stout.’’ I agreed, ‘‘but I'm going in lor golfing.” Steel notched a fresh cigar precisely, set it exactly in his mouth, and lit it carefully all round. It warmed my heart to see him do thiogs in the same old methodical ways. **A stout man was never a hero-worship- er yes,” he pronounced, with his whimsi- cal smile. ‘‘Perhaps the fault 1s in us.” ‘‘Perbaps. Do you remember how he declaimed against Galloway for saying that he meant to marry mouey? He mar- ried a governess in the end! It was worse than selling body and soul, Marjeson said. It was cheating the buyer as well. Hang it all, Chunky, we had a right to expect something better from Maijeson!” “We expect too much of our heroes,’ said Steel. ‘‘It's all very well to grumble about the clay feet, but —— Suppose they have clay feet. It's something to have the heroic bust, anyhow. If a hero had any sense—they never have!—he'd stick out his confounded clay feet first. Then we should worship him afterward for his bust. I knew a fellow who did that—un- consciously, of course. He wasn't the kind to play up for admiration. It was over marrying for money, too. I'll tell you about it after you've wet him. He's our doctor. You'll like the chap. Let's go and see if he's in.” We called on John Franklin, bachelor of sargery and doctor by courtesy, and found him at home; a handsome, happy-go-lucky giant, but shrewd for all his carelessness; a mao who had seen the world and knew women and men. I liked him, as Steel had predicted— who should know my likings if old Steel didn’t? —aund be seem to hike me. We'd go for a run in his motor on Sanday aod “have a spree,” he proposed. ‘‘While the cat's away!" he explained, with r nod at a photograph on the table; she porurait of a thin, pale-faced lady, with no pretensions to heauty. ‘‘Not that the mouse bas avy complaint to he make,” added, with a langh. *‘It isa good little cat!" Then a patient called to see him, and he excused himself for a few moments. While he was out of the room Steel told me about it. This 1s the story: She was Georgina Mason hefore she mar- ried; the only child of old Mason, the jam man. He left ber all hus money. A lot of fellows wanted to marry the money, hat Georgie saw through them and torned them all down. She was a clever girl, though she didu’t look it, and had a mind of her own; a little foo much wind, fora woman. I rather liked her myself, but most men didn’t. She bad a wonderfully sharp edge to her tongue, and it grew sharper as she grew older. I suppose she got a bitsoured. Women need a man to sweeten them—or children. She always told me that she would never marry, and I half-believed her. She ‘wouldn't be a mug thrown in with a pound of tea!” was the way she used to put it; and the rewark gives you a very fair idea of her style. Oue day abont a year ago she called to tell me thas she had changed her mind. She didn’s think any more of men, she in- formed we, but she thought less of herself. “I'm beginning to find myeell unhear- able,” she stated, ‘‘and 1'd rather quarrel with some one else! A husband is obvious- ly the proper person for the purpose.’ ‘Who is he, Georgie?’ I asked blonsly. It’s no nse wasting time over generalities | with a woman. “‘I thought of Doctor Franklin,” she said, ‘but I want your opinion, as my solicitor.” She spoke as coolly as if she was buying a house—or a horse. “Don’t be a fool!” I said—you had to epeak plainly to her in those days. ‘“‘My opinion as a friend is that you've gone mad.” I suppose you claim friendship so thas Iu can be rude,’’ she rejoined, tossing her ead. She had a lot of airs and graces that would bave been pretsy in a pretty woman. *‘What is the matter with him?" ‘“There’s nothing the matter with kim,’ I said. ‘He's one of the best fellows I know; bat he's an incorrigible flirt, and —— Look here, Georgie, I'm going to put it plaiuly. Is he in love with yon?" “I'll pus it to you plainly,” she retorted. ‘‘Are any of them? I suppose’’—she langh- ed bitterly—*I'm not an easy person to fall in love with.” “Umph!” I said. ‘You're all right, if you'd give yourself a chance. You know what I mean, you—you acid little ! Waters us e you ohoose Faanklin, of a ple OO ot him.” She shut her mouth with a snap. I knew farther argument was useless. Look at her mouth in the photograph! So I only told her not to be a bigger fool than she could help, and to let me tie up her money prop- erly. The next day I heard they were engaged. I must say that Franklin played the game with her. He was very attentive, and made a show of admiration; and he | never flirted a hit after the engagement, ! though he was very popular with the girls. He was wanly over it, 100, and showed that, if be bad sold himself, he badn’s sold bis self-respect. He keps Miss Georgie in order and curbed her tongue. It did ber a deal of good. She was (rightfully gone ou him, and would bave jumped into the water if be had told her to. She wouldn's even give me particulars of her property at first to draw up a settlement. What was hers would be his, she said, and it didn’s matter. And she called herself a business woman! However, I spoke to him about it, and be put down his foot, and said she muss. So she uodertnok to get the details from her stock-broker and she manager of the jam factory. She managed her business nerself, without consulting me. I believe she did it very well till ashe lost ber head over Franklin ; but a women in love is—a woman ! She had arranged to bring the particalars at two o'clock on Tuesday, but she came at noon. I never saw a plucky woman so cut up in my life. She had been swindled, is appeared, and lost practically the los. “1 don’t want any pity,’ she deolared, ‘‘but I want your help. Break it to—him ; and let me get away firss.”’ “‘But—"" I began ; and she snapped me up. ‘Youn mean that he would hold to his bargain,”’ she said scorufally. *‘Of course he would. He's aman! He'd even per- jure himself, and say be only wanted me. Me ! I—I'm vot worth having perhaps’’— she cried for a few seconds then ; it was the only time—‘‘but I'm hetter worsh baving than some people think. I'm wot bad enough to force myself on him without any—auy compensation. Tell him so to- worrow ; alter I’m gone.” I told him thas afternoon, and he went t0 bher—and perjored himesell | She wouldn't listen to him and rushed off to ber aunt's. She sent him a note asking him not to pain her by any further attempt at persuasion ; and she sent me a note ask- ing me to let people know that he had made the attempt, and bad made it ‘‘very strongly, sincerely, and kindly” ! She wanted every one to understand that he was ‘‘honorably free.’’ She wae leaving for the Continent on Friday, she wrore. I thought this was the end of it ; bus that was when the hero appeared. Frank - lin wens up to town on Toursday morning and got a special license and arranged with a parson. Ou Friday morning he went to ber aunt's house,aud carried off, her almost by phyesicial force and married her. When he brought her home he worked like a Trojan at his dootering, and now he's doing well. So perbaps it hasn't turned out #0 badly for him. Anyhow, the fellow’s a gentleman. I don’t know any man who is more attentive to his wile in public ; and I imagine he's pretty decent to her in private, for she seems contented enough. In fact marriage has iwproved her wonderfully, and she's grown almost popuolar. It's improved Franklin, too. Trouble always does im- prove a man ! Still, he could have married almost any girl in the town. And a man likes a pretty woman—even if he’s heroio. I wonder it Marjeson — He stopped abruptly, for Franklin re- tarned, and we covcluded the arrange- ments for Sunday. He bad been longing for *‘a breakout’ for ages, he declared, and we bachelors couldn’s realize tbe effect of ‘*a life sentence,’ ‘*Even when the jailoress is a model one’’ be added, with a vod at she portrait. He always took pains to speak well of his wife, Steel assared me. ‘The collar pinches a bis,” Steel re- marked, as we walk