MAURICE.

"The stubbornness of fortune."


It was the first of the month, and a steady stream of people passed in and
out of the bank. Maurice sat on the steps leading up to the private
entrance, and with few exceptions each new-comer had a pleasant greeting
or kindly inquiry for him.

Miss Betty Bishop rustling out, bank book in hand, called, "How are you,
Maurice? When are you and Katherine coming to take tea with me? Let me
know and I'll have waffles."

The cabinet-maker came to the foot of the steps to ask about the lame
knee, and shook his head in sympathy with Maurice's doleful face.

Colonel Parton, a tall, gray-mustached man, accompanied by two hunting
dogs, hailed him: "Not going with the boys? Ah, I forgot your knee. Too
bad! Jack's got the dandiest new fishing-rod you ever saw."

"As if I didn't know it," growled Maurice, us the colonel entered the
bank.

The next person to accost him was Miss Celia Fair. She hadn't any bank
business, but seeing Maurice as she passed, stopped to speak to him. She
sat down beside him and tried in her pretty, soft way to cheer him.

"Don't look so gloomy, dear; you know if you are careful you will soon be
all right again," she said.