Of the two men, Stephen had more to say, but Claude said more. He was thought
brilliant in conversation; but what wonder, when one considered his advantages
and his dazzling experiences! He had customers who were worth their thousands;
ladies whose fingers never touched dish-water; ladies who would n't buy a
glove of anybody else if they went bare-handed to the grave. He lived with his
sister Maude Arthurlena in a house where there were twenty-two other boarders
who could be seated at meals all at the same time, so immense was the
dining-room. He ate his dinner at a restaurant daily, and expended twenty-five
cents for it without blenching. He went to the theater once a week, and was
often accompanied by "lady friends" who were "elegant dressers."

In a moment of wrath Stephen had called him a "counter-jumper," but it was a
libel. So short and rough a means of exit from his place of power was wholly
beneath Claude's dignity. It was with a" Pardon me, Miss Dix," that, the noon
hour having arrived, he squeezed by that slave and victim, and raising the
hinged board that separated his kingdom from that of the ribbon department,
passed out of the store, hat in hand, serene in the consciousness that though
other clerks might nibble luncheon from a brown paper bag, he would speedily
be indulging in an expensive repast; and Miss Dix knew it, and it was a part
of his almost invincible attraction for her.

It seemed flying in the face of Providence to decline the attentions of such a
gorgeous butterfly of fashion simply because one was engaged to marry another
man at some distant day.

All Edgewood femininity united in saying that there never was such a perfect
gentleman as Claude Merrill; and during the time when his popularity was at
its height Rose lost sight of the fact that Stephen could have furnished the
stuff for a dozen Claudes and have had enough left for an ordinary man
besides.