The year Laurel began going to school, a New York law firm asked Stephen to become one of its members. Mr. Palmer advised Stephen to accept the invitation. It would mean, of course, a loss to him, not only a business loss but a personal loss too. Stephen had come to seem to him almost like a son. “But go,” he said, “go. It’s your big chance, my boy. Go.”

It happened that, during the time that Stephen had the New York proposition under consideration, Stella was carrying on a rather more obvious flirtation than usual with a man of a very offensive personality to Stephen. Stephen had told Stella how distasteful this particular man was to him; but Stella had paid no heed to his objections. Stephen was always objecting.

The man’s name was Alfred Munn. He was a stranger in Milhampton. There had sprung up in Milhampton an interest in horseback riding the preceding summer. The River Club had filled its stables with a dozen or more Kentucky thoroughbreds obtained from a Southern hostelry. They were somewhat worn-out animals for the most part, but they were safe and steady for beginners, much safer and steadier in fact than their owner—or keeper. (It was never definitely known which Alfred Munn was.)

Alfred Munn became almost as much of a craze at the River Club as the sport he taught. It was difficult to get an hour’s instruction from him, if you hadn’t engaged it weeks in advance. He was busy every day from six in the morning till six at night, instructing women and children mostly. Certain women of the younger married set began paying Alfred Munn ridiculous attention. It was discovered that it was not only on the back of a horse that he was skillful, and the epitome of grace and rhythm; he could also excel on the ballroom floor. One of the younger married women, bolder than her sisters, invited him to a River Club dance. He was soon attending all the River Club dances. He was taken up by a certain set of women in Milhampton like some new exotic food.

In spite of the report that he belonged to an aristocratic Southern family of reduced financial circumstances, most of the women who paid him attention were aware of his lack of breeding. They were simply amusing themselves. But Stella couldn’t see why Alfred Munn wasn’t a gentleman, she told Stephen. Other women like Edith and Rosamond (it was Edith and Rosamond then, instead of Myrtle and Phyllis) didn’t seem to find anything so horribly objectionable about him. Why in the world should Stephen expect her to be so particular!

Stephen used to find Alfred Munn sitting with Stella over a kettle and tea-cups, in the living-room, when he came home in the late afternoon. Stephen and Stella had moved from the apartment by then, and were living in a detached house with a lawn and garden.