"I've

put it off too late. She's going to sail for Europe at noon day after to-morrow

for a two years' stay. I'm to see her alone to-morrow evening for a few

minutes.

She's

at Larchmont now at her aunt's. I can't go there. But I'm allowed to meet her

with a cab at the Grand Central Station to-morrow evening at the 8.30 train. We

drive down Broadway to Wallack's at a gallop, where her mother and a box party

will be waiting for us in the lobby. Do you think she would listen to a

declaration from me during that six or eight minutes under those circumstances?

No. And what chance would I have in the theatre or afterward? None. No, dad,

this is one tangle that your money can't unravel. We can't buy one minute of

time with cash; if we could, rich people would live longer. There's no hope of

getting a talk with Miss Lantry before she sails."

"All

right, Richard, my boy," said old Anthony, cheerfully. "You may run

along down to your club...