But Harry knew nothing of the most magnificent of his friend’s trophies until it undulated gloriously down the aisle, above the heads of two men, white satin ribbons flying, tinfoil shining—­an enormous horseshoe of roses and mignonette!

The parents were both on their feet to crane their necks after it, as it passed them amid the plaudits.

“Oh, it was you, Cousin Margaret; I know it was you,” cried Harry.

He took the ladies over to the Fitzmaurices the minute that the diplomas were given; and, directly, Tommy joined them, attended by two admiring followers laden with the trophies.  Mrs. O’Halloran and Mrs. Macillarney and divers of the friends, both male and female, joined the circle.  Tommy held quite a little court.  He shook hands with all the ladies, beginning with Mrs. Carriswood (who certainly never had found herself before in such a company, jammed between Alderman McGinnis’s resplendent new tweeds and Mrs. Macillarney’s calico); he affectionately embraced his mother, and he allowed himself to be embraced by Mrs. Macillarney and Mrs. O’Halloran, while Patrick Fitzmaurice shook hands with the alderman.

“Here’s the lady that helped me on me piece, father; she’s the lady that sent me the horseshoe, mother.  Like to make you acquainted with me father and me mother.  Mr. and Mrs. Fitzmaurice, Mrs. Carriswood.”

In these words, Tommy, blushing and happy, presented his happy parents.

“Sure, I’m proud to meet you, ma’am,” said Fitzmaurice, bowing, while his wife courtesied and wiped her eyes.

They were very grateful, but they were more grateful for the flowers than for the oratorical drilling.  No doubt they thought that their Tommy could have done as well in any case; but the splendid horseshoe was another matter!

Ten years passed before Mrs. Carriswood saw her pupil again.  During those years the town had increased and prospered; so had the Lossing Art Furniture Works.  It was after Harry Lossing had disappointed his father.  This is not saying that he had done anything out of the way; he had simply declined to be the fourth Harry Lossing on the rolls of Harvard College.  Instead, he proposed to enter the business and to begin by learning his own trade.  He was so industrious, he kept at it with such energy that his first convert was his father—­ no, I am wrong, Mrs. Carriswood was the first; Mrs. Lossing was not a convert, she had believed in Harry from the beginning.  But all this was years before Mrs. Carriswood’s visit.

Another of Master Harry’s notions was his belief in the necessity of his “meddling”—­so his father put it—­in the affairs of the town, the state, and the nation, as well as those of the Lossing furniture company.  But, though he was pleased to make rather cynical fun of his son’s political enthusiasm, esteeming it in a sense a diverting and therefore reprehensible pursuit for a business man, the elder Lossing had a sneaking pride in it, all the same.  He liked to bring out Harry’s political shrewdness.