He was not yet in a
position to estimate his good fortune in comprehensive terms. As a
matter of fact, he did not try. One thought alone kept flaming through
his brain--his age. Twenty-six, twenty-six; the numerals flew through
his mind as though the years of his life were the most important
elements in the situation.
By the time he reached the Battery sea-wall, he had somewhat adjusted
his mental attitude, and, gazing with a degree of calmness over the
waters of the bay toward the hills of Staten Island, he recalled the
note from Miss Howland.
All along it had lain a pleasant substratum in his mind, and now as he
tore open the envelope and read the contents, a peculiar, grim smile
lighted his eyes for a second.
"DEAR CAPTAIN MERRITHEW:--Next Thursday we are going to have a reunion
of the castaways at our house. It will be for dinner, and we have all
agreed it will not be complete without the man who made this gathering
possible.
"I am not going to let you make any excuse, for my dinner-party will
have an empty space without you. It will be very informal. Father for
several years has refused to wear evening dress at dinner, so none of
the other men will. Now remember, I shall expect you on Thursday
evening, at seven; you need not bother sending an acceptance.
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