Business maniac as Madge thinks me to be, little Jack is of more consequence than a transcontinental railway.

I must face the music--the discord, rather--of Wall Street to-morrow.

There is no use in protesting or coaxing; I must be there; but it's a great thing to be able to return with my nerves soothed, rested, and quieted.

Heaven help the men who, after the strain of the day, must go home to be pricked half to death with pin-and-needle-like worries, if not worse." "Please imagine Madge and myself making a profound courtesy for the implied compliment," said Mrs.Muir.

"But can you not spend part of the week with us ?" "No.