HIS SITUATION.

Press, Volume LV, Issue 10032, 10 May 1898, Page 7

HIS SITUATION.

One morning M'Elway Robson opened his newspaper «t the column " Male Help Wanted," and studied it; with a selfish interest. At thirty-three he was about to do his first work. Not that he cared to work or knew how to do any useful kind of work, but he had a vague apprehension that unless he worked he would starve to death. For the first time in his life he was in actual need of money. Except as to money, he was well equipped. Against the wall in his room at the hotel were two trunks filled with clothing. The man himself was in robust health. He had graduated afc an Eastern University, dawdled in Boston society, travelled in Europe, and led the lazy life of a clubman. W hen his father died the estate dwindled away under a settlement, and M'Elway came into a few thousands, which he spent generously, but in no haste. When the thousands had been reduced to hundreds, M'Elway Robson began to dread the prospect of showing his poverty to his Boslon friends, so he folded his numerous trousers into trunks, and with two hatboxes and a bundle of sticks and umbrellas, he hurried away to Chicago. He had been told that Chicago was the place for a young man without capital. After a. week in town and a promenade along Michigan Avenue every sunny afternoon he counted his money, and found that his capital had not increased, in spite of the fact that Chicago had been recommended to him. That is why one morning he had to look at the column, "Male Help Wanted." He shivered as he glanced at the listbakers, cutters, feeders, horse-shoers, shoemakers, tailors, and so on. He turned to the tab-department, "Miscellaneous." Clearly, be was one oi the " Miscellaneous." He noticed that " agents" were wanted. He chivied again. Then hie eye fell on the following: — WANTED—Society young man to undertake light employment; liberal pay ; must have complete wardrobe ; speak the modern language*, and be a good conversationalist. No one well known in Chicago need apply. Address XXX 21. "That's my description," said M'Elway Bobson, reading it again; " but what in the world does it mean'/' . He wrote a note to XXX 21, uairg hie own stationery with the gilt crest, and carried it to the newspaper office. Then he went to his room and had a reflective smoke, and that afternoon took his usual afternoon turn in Michigan Avenue. When he came back to his hotel he found a communication summoning him to Room 718, Cloud Building, Dearborn street. The building was pointed out to him—an immense shaft with windows in it—and in a few minutes he was counting the numbers along a dim corridor of the seventh floor. As he opened the door into 718, he saw a short and ruddy man at a rather bare desk. " Have I the honour of addressing Mr Robson?" asked the little man, most suavely. " My name is Hellye." " Yes, sir; my name is Robson." "Won't you be seated? Yes, it was very good of you to call. I"—and the little man stopped and beamed in admiration. " Will you be kind enough to tell mc what sort of employment you have to offer?" asked M'Elway, carelessly patting his knee with a glove, and, looking at the little man with a cold politeness. " Beautiful!" exclaimed the other, still regarding him with a pleased smile. " Mr Robson, you're just the man I want." " Quite so; and what am I to do?" "You are to attend an occasional dinner party, and say pleasant things about your host or hostess, as the case may be. That's not hard to do, is it?"? " No, but why should I do it?" " In the first place, because I will pay you liberally. In the second place, because your host or hostess needs—well, a good advocate. Let mc explain. Suppose a family with money comes here to Chicago, takes a house or a fine suite of roopa, and wants to get into >ome kind of society. Suppose I nave a client living at a swell hotel"—— "A client?" " That's what I call him. Suppose be and his wife want to get acquainted with the best people in that hotel. They can't give a dinner and invite all these people. Somebody else must do that." "Then you want ma" "No; that isn't your part. I know plenty of bright trustworthy women who are willing to give dinners if somebody else will foot the bills—understand? Wtiat I want you to do is to be there to help along the couple that wants to break into that set, if I must put it plainly. You are to pretend that you knew them at their former home, and you are to say complimentary things about them, endorse them without any equivocation, and take especial pains to put them in a good light before any influential people who happen to be present. Before the evening is over make an engagement for another dinner to be attended by the same company. But you understand those things better than I do." " I understand perfectly well, and I must say that I don't fancy the job." " Perhaps not: but you need the fifty dollars which I .will pay you for every engagement. You will meet charming people and dine beautifully, and no one will know ploys you, and he will be for ever bound in yoiic real position except the one who emsecrecy. Now, a man who travels in pretentious society has to lie more or less, anyway " —— " More," said M'Elway. " Then what's the difference between lying free of charge and lying for money?" " None at all," replied M'Elway, greatly refreshed by this original view of the situation. " I am in your hands." "Good! I need you to-morrow night. A widow, Mrs Hawley, just from Cedar Falls, with a barrel of money—living at the Grand Bellevue apartments. She s been here a few weeka, and is trying to get a start. Devilish handsome woman, with plenty of style and apparently all right, but people seem a little touchy because they don t know much of her history. She married an old fellow at Cedar Falls, and he died, and now she has his money—that's about all we know. You can ,go to that dance out there to-night and tell those people how well she stood in Cedar Falls, and that she left there because the society wasn't good enough, or something like that —understand?" " I will construct a past of which she will be proud," said Robson. " That's business. You want to be there early—by eight o'clock—and see her before the "thing begins. There & to be dancing, and then a supper, I believe. Here, I'll give you the address." Robson was at the Grand Bellevue apartments at eight o'clock. A maid admitted him to a pretty parlour. He sat and philosophized on his occupation. ■»- Presently he looked up and saw a tall and beautiful woman in an evening gown. It was Lizzie—the Lizzie who had kept the flower stand in the rotunda of the Beacon Hill Hotel in Boston. She saw him and took a backward step. The colour leaped to her face. ■ " Mr Robsou I" she faltered. " Is it acti|ally you, Lizzie?" "Why—yes, she said, gazing at him, *s if frightened. " What are you doing here? ,, * " I live here. Didn't you know? I'm Mrs Hawley. How did you find mc? Are you the " and she stopped embarrassed. "You've jjuessed it, Lizzie. I am 'the. , i."The guvnor died and left mc next to nothing. I found myself here in Chicago, and —well, I had to do something. But you! This is the surprise of my life. What dow it all mean?" "Well, it means this: , You know, three yeara ago my brother—l don't think you; knew him; he's in politics—he got mc a ticket for Cedar Falls, where my sister Ella lived. She's married and out there. I went out on a visit, and the funniest thing happened. Mr Hawley fell in love with mc. I met him at a big picnic, and he did'nt'give mc a moment's peace until I married mm. Rich? Why, Mr Robson, my lawyers tell mc I'm worth two hundred thousand dollars. After he died, and I waited a decent time, ' I just said to myself, 'I'll get out of this place. It's too quiet for mc, after Boston.' Of course, I couldn't go back to Boston. Every fellow in town knew mc when I was at the Beacon Hill there. So I came to Chicago, and here I am. And you've lost your money, Mr Robson?" " You might know I have, Lizzie, or I wouldn't be out here to help you ** '"Sh-h-h! Don't between you and mc, Mr Robson, I don't care much for society. What I want is a good man, and I don't care if he hasn't " "Well, Liatle, when yon wen at th^

Beacon. Hill I told you every day that I loved you." "I didn't believe v xi then." " Well, possibly 1 didn't mean it either; but it strikes mc there is something providential in this meeting. You have the money and want to see life with a good companion. You know mc. Don't you think that, under the circumstances, we could come to an agreement? You know my story and I know yours. You need my experience to guide you, and, to be candid, I need money." "Mr Robson, when you used to buy a bunch of violets and talk that way, I knew better. But I believe you're in earnapt now. And don't I wish there wasn't to be any dance! We could go to the show." When another " client" wanted to give a dinner the star attraction was missing, and Mr Hellys could not produce him. He had married the widow from Cedar Falls.— Chicago Record.