well known that he fulfilled his managerial duties successfully,
whatever time he might take. His grace, tact, and ornate appearance
gave the place an air which was most essential, while at the same time
his long experience made him a most excellent judge of its stock
necessities. Bartenders and assistants might come and go, singly or in
groups, but, so long as he was present, the host of old-time customers
would barely notice the change. He gave the place the atmosphere to
which they were used. Consequently, he arranged his hours very much to
suit himself, taking now an afternoon, now an evening, but invariably
returning between eleven and twelve to witness the last hour or two of
the day's business and look after the closing details.
"You see that things are safe and all the employees are out when you go
home, George," Moy had once remarked to him, and he never once, in all
the period of his long service, neglected to do this. Neither of the
owners had for years been in the resort after five in the afternoon,
and yet their manager as faithfully fulfilled this request as if they
On this Friday afternoon, scarcely two days after his previous visit,
he made up his mind to see Carrie. He could not stay away longer.
"Evans," he said, addressing the head barkeeper, "if any one calls, I
He hurried to Madison Street and boarded a horse-car, which carried him
Carrie had thought of going for a walk, and had put on a light gray
woolen dress with a jaunty double-breasted jacket. She had out her hat
and gloves, and was fastening a white lace tie about her throat when
the housemaid brought up the information that Mr. Hurstwood wished to
She started slightly at the announcement, but told the girl to say that
she would come down in a moment, and proceeded to hasten her dressing.
Carrie could not have told herself at this moment whether she was glad
or sorry that the impressive manager was awaiting her presence. She
was slightly flurried and tingling in the cheeks, but it was more
nervousness than either fear or favor. She did not try to conjecture
what the drift of the conversation would be. She only felt that she
must be careful, and that Hurstwood had an indefinable fascination for
her. Then she gave her tie its last touch with her fingers and went
The deep-feeling manager was himself a little strained in the nerves by
the thorough consciousness of his mission. He felt that he must make a
strong play on this occasion, but now that the hour was come, and he
heard Carrie's feet upon the stair, his nerve failed him. He sank a
