And what he had began to drop away from him.  Insensibly he came to see that the display of his legal knowledge, of his carefully chosen ties, of his splendid equipment in house, horses, and automobiles, had something of the major-domo’s strut in parti-colored hose.  The day came when he understood that the effort to charm her by the parade of these things was like the appeal to divine grace by means of grinding on a prayer-mill.  It was a long step to take, both in thought and emotion, leading him to see love, marriage, women’s hearts, and all kindred subjects, from a different point of view.  Love in particular began to appear to him as more than the sum total of approbation bestowed on an object to be acquired.  Though he was not prepared to give it a new definition, it was clear that the old one was no longer sufficient for his needs.  The mere fact that this woman, whom he had vainly tempted with gifts—­whom he was still hoping to capture by prowess—­could come to him of her own accord, had a transforming effect on himself.  If he ever got her—­by purchase, conquest, or any other form of acquisition—­he had expected to be proud; he had never dreamed of this curious happiness, that almost made him humble.

It was a new conception of life to think that there were things in it that might be given, but which could not be bought; as it was a new revelation of himself to perceive that there were treasures in his dry heart which had never before been drawn on.  This discovery was made almost accidentally.  He stumbled on it, as men have stumbled on Koh-i-noors and Cullinanes lying in the sand.

“What I really came to tell you,” he said to her, on one occasion, as they strolled side by side in the Park, “is that I am going away to-morrow—­to the West—­to Omaha.”

“Isn’t that rather sudden?”

“Rather.  I’ve thought for the last few days I might do it.  The fact is, they’ve found Amalia Gramm.”

She stopped with a sudden start of interrogation, moving on again at once.  It was a hot September evening, at the hour when twilight merges into night.  They had left Wayne on a favorite seat, and having finished their own walk northward, were returning to pick him up and take him home.  It was just dark enough for the thin crescent of the harvest moon to be pendulous above the city, while a rim of lighted windows in high faASec.ades framed the tree-tops The peace of the quiet path in which they rambled seemed the more sylvan because of the clang and rumble of the streets, as a room will appear more secluded and secure when there is a storm outside.

“They’ve found her living with some nieces out there,” he went on to explain.  “She appears to have been half over the world since old Gramm died—­home to Germany—­back to America—­to Denver—­to Chicago—­to Milwaukee—­to the Lord knows where—­and now she has fetched up in Omaha.  She strikes me in the light of an unquiet spirit.  It seems she has nephews and nieces all over the lot—­and as she has the ten thousand dollars old Chris Ford left them—­”