the real thing.  A careful summing up of the expenses and receipts proved that the tour had been a bonanza for Brewster.  The net loss was a trifle more than $56,000.  When this story became known about town, everybody laughed pityingly, and poor Gardner was almost in tears when he tried to explain the disaster to the man who lost the money.  But Monty’s sense of humor, singularly enough, did not desert him on this trying occasion.

Aesthetically the ball proved to be the talk of more than one season.  Pettingill had justified his desire for authority and made a name which would last.  He had taken matters into his own hands while Brewster was in Florida, and changed the period from the Spain of Velasquez to France and Louis Quinze.  After the cards were out he remembered, to his consternation, that the favors purchased for the Spanish ball would be entirely inappropriate for the French one.  He wired Brewster at once of this misfortune, and was astonished at the nonchalance of his reply.  “But then Monty always was a good sort,” he thought, with a glow of affection.  The new plan was more costly than the old, for it was no simple matter to build a Versailles suite at Sherry’s.  Pettingill was no imitator, but he created an effect which was superbly in keeping with the period he had chosen.  Against it the rich costumes, with their accompaniment of wigs and powdered hair, shone out resplendent.  With great difficulty the artist had secured for Monty a costume in white satin and gold brocade, which might once have adorned the person of Louis himself.  It made him feel like a popinjay, and it was with infinite relief that he took it off an hour or so after dawn.  He knew that things had gone well, that even Mrs. Dan was satisfied; but the whole affair made him heartsick.  Behind the compliments lavished upon him he detected a note of irony, which revealed the laughter that went on behind his back.  He had not realized how much it would hurt.  “For two cents,” he thought, “I’d give up the game and be satisfied with what’s left.”  But he reflected that such a course would offer no chance to redeem himself.  Once again he took up the challenge and determined to win out.  “Then,” he thought exultantly, “I’ll make them feel this a bit.”

He longed for the time when he could take his few friends with him and sail away to the Mediterranean to escape the eyes and tongues of New York.  Impatiently he urged Harrison to complete the arrangements, so that they could start at once.  But Harrison’s face was not untroubled when he made his report.  All the preliminary details had been perfected.  He had taken the “Flitter” for four months, and it was being overhauled and put into condition for the voyage.  It had been Brown’s special pride, but at his death it went to heirs who were ready and eager to rent it to the highest bidder.  It would not have been easy to find a handsomer yacht in New York waters.  A picked crew of fifty men were under command of Captain Abner Perry.  The steward was a famous manager and could be relied upon to stock the larder in princely fashion.  The boat would be in readiness to sail by the tenth of April.