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14 humility of the manager before Mr. Lowell—and the dinner … wine … a liqueur—then, this odd conversation, in which he took little part: he felt elated by this peep into the gilded future.

"Henry," said Mr. Lowell politely, "Kenneth is to be my protégé. I am a lonely old man. I have no son of my own. I plan to teach Kenneth life as I see it."

"Estimable, La, estimable," said Henry Fraser. "You are a true philanthropist."

"If I must say so, Henry," Mr. Lowell spoke with unusual acerbity for Mr. Lowell, "you are rotting, positively rotting."

Henry Fraser wore a neat polkadotted tie and a handkerchief to match. He carefully blew his nose and made an unintelligible remark.

"We're leaving in the morning. I had planned to devote an hour or two to Ken's curriculum at Flintridge Academy. That is, if he chooses to go to Flintridge Academy."

"I'm sure I shan't delay you," said Henry Fraser. Ken thought he understood that Henry Fraser wanted to be entertained in some fashion by Mr. Lowell. But he proceeded to say good-night and departed.

After Henry Fraser was gone, Ken asked Mr. Lowell who he was.

"An ungrateful youth, of a vile and insupportable temperament—but an old friend," Mr. Lowell quickly added.

They sat, the young man and the old man on the Louis Quinze chaise-longue, and the broad-shouldered hazel-eyed Ken seemed frail beside the bulk of old Lowell. The tall Texas youth sat in abashed deference, waiting for his protector to speak.

"Life—that is, your life—has been simple, Ken," Mr.