The next day was icy.  Men went slipping along upon the side-walks as carefully as if they were trying to follow a guide through the galleries of Versailles.  And in the afternoon a beautiful woman called a boy to her, and begged him to give her his shoulder and help her home.  The request was so sweetly made, she expressed her obligations so courteously, she smiled upon him so beautifully, she praised him so ingenuously, she shook his hand at parting so heartily; that he went home all aglow from his heart to his finger’s ends.

Mrs. Dillingham had made Harry Benedict’s acquaintance, which she managed to keep alive by bows in the street and bows from the window,—­managed to keep alive until the lad worshiped her as a sort of divinity and, to win her smiling recognition, would go out of his way a dozen blocks on any errand about the city.

He recognized her—­knew her as the beautiful woman he had seen in the great house across the street before Mr. Belcher arrived in town.  Recognizing her as such, he kept the secret of his devotion to himself, for fear that it would be frowned upon by his good friends the Balfours.  Mr. Belcher, however, knew all about it, rejoiced in it, and counted upon it as a possible means in the accomplishment of his ends.

CHAPTER XVI.

WHICH GIVES AN ACCOUNT OF A VOLUNTARY AND AN INVOLUNTARY VISIT OF SAM YATES TO NUMBER NINE.

Mr. Belcher followed up the acquaintance which he had so happily made on New Year’s Day with many of the leading operators of Wall street, during the remainder of the winter, and, by the careful and skillful manipulation of the minor stocks of the market, not only added to his wealth by sure and steady degrees, but built up a reputation for sagacity and boldness.  He struck at them with a strong hand, and gradually became a recognized power on ’Change.  He knew that he would not be invited into any combinations until he had demonstrated his ability to stand alone.  He understood that he could not win a leading position in any of the great financial enterprises until he had shown that he had the skill to manage them.  He was playing for two stakes—­present profit and future power and glory; and he played with brave adroitness.

During the same winter the work at Number Nine went on according to contract.  Mike Conlin found his second horse and the requisite sled, and, the river freezing solidly and continuously, he was enabled not only to draw the lumber to the river, but up to the very point where it was to be used, and where Jim and Mr. Benedict were hewing and framing their timber, and pursuing their trapping with unflinching industry.  Number Ten was transformed into a stable, where Mike kept his horses on the nights of his arrival.  Two trips a week were all that he could accomplish, but the winter was so long, and he was so industrious, that before the ice broke up, everything for the construction