"Why? What do you mean? Do you think they'd blame her—about this unfortunate affair of Fred's?"

Miss Maggie sighed again.

"I wasn't thinking of that. I was thinking of another matter. I just came from Frank's, and—"

"Yes?" Something in her face sent a questioning frown to Mr. Smith's own countenance.

"Do you remember hearing Flora say that Jane had bought a lot of the Benson gold-mine stock?"

"Yes."

"Well, Benson has failed; and they've just found out that that gold- mine stock is worth—about two cents on a dollar."

"Two cents! And how much—"

"About forty thousand dollars," said Miss Maggie wearily.

Mr. Smith sat down.

"Well, I'll be—"

He did not finish his sentence.

Chapter XX - Frankenstein: Being a Letter from John Smith to Edward D. Norton, Attorney at Law

*

DEAR NED:—Wasn't there a story written once about a fellow who created some sort of a machine man without any soul that raised the very dickens and all for him? Frank—Frankenstein?—I guess that was it. Well, I've created a Frankenstein creature—and I'm dead up against it to know what to do with him.

Ned, what in Heaven's name am I going to do with Mr. John Smith? Mr. John Smith, let me tell you, is a very healthy, persistent, insistent, important person, with many kind friends, a definite position in the world, and no small degree of influence. Worse yet (now prepare for a stunning blow, Ned!), Mr. Smith has been so inconsiderate as to fall in love. Yes, he has. And he has fallen in love as absolutely and as idiotically as if he were twenty-one instead of fifty-two. Now, will you kindly tell me how Mr. John Smith is going to fade away into nothingness? And, even if he finds the way to do that, shall he, before fading, pop the question for Mr. Stanley G. Fulton, or shall he trust to Mr. Stanley G. Fulton's being able to win for himself the love Mr. John Smith fondly hopes is his?

Seriously, joking aside, I'm afraid I've made a mess of things, not only for myself, but for everybody else.