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Updated: June 19, 2025
A few straggling couples like themselves came in with the same sheepish but bright-eyed hesitancy. At the elevator Miss Blondheim and Mr. Epstein were lingering over good-nights. The quartette rode up to their respective floors together the girls regarding each other with shy, happy eyes; the men covering up their self-consciousness with sallies.
My dear wife, Dr Loewe, and myself paid a visit to the Princess Paskiewitch, the wife of the Viceroy. She was very kind in her manner, and spoke for a considerable time with us. We afterwards accompanied Mr Epstein to the Jewish Hospital, where we found the directors and most of the governors and their ladies waiting to receive us."
From the doctrine a small but interesting school of sculpture has come: Laurens, an artist of sensibility and some power, and Lipsitz are its most admired representatives. At home we have Epstein and Dobson; both have been through the stern school of abstract construction, and Epstein has emerged the most brilliant pasticheur alive.
For a moment Laurie sat silent in his chair, watching her with a strange intentness. Then, in turn, his black eyes went to the faces of Bangs and Epstein. Huddled in the big chair he occupied, the manager sat looking straight before him, his eyes set in agony, his jaw dropped. He had the aspect of a man about to have a stroke. Bangs sat leaning forward, staring at the floor.
With "Chuck" Epstein, he had a good seat near the altar, and many were the smiles and knowing nods exchanged between other invited guests at the evident eagerness of the lad to take in all the proceedings. And yet no other person, perhaps, in the assembly and it was a large one felt more than William the real solemnity of the ceremony.
Whimple thought no more about it until the following Monday night when he received from Epstein an invitation to go to the Variety with him. He met the old comedian at the door of the theatre, and found Watson and William with him. They had seats in the front row of the balcony. Epstein and Whimple sat together, Watson next to the barrister, and William next to Watson.
"That the whole adventure was a plant you and Epstein had fixed up to keep me out of mischief," Laurie repeated, patiently. "He explained that you had engaged a company to put it over, headed by Miss Mayo, who is a friend of Mrs. Ordway, and who has a burning ambition to go on the stage. He said you promised her that if she made a success of it, she was to have the leading rôle in our next play.
A little later, in the automobile that whirled him and Epstein out to the wedding-reception at Devon House, Rodney Bangs briefly developed the wedding theme. "I suppose the reason why women cry at weddings and men feel glum is that they know what the bride's in for," he remarked, gloomily. Epstein grunted. "You an' me is bachelors," he reminded the momentarily cynical youth. "Ve should vorry!"
Louis Epstein, a faithful replica of his mother, with close black hair that curled on his head like the nap of a Persian lamb, imprinted a large, moist kiss upon the maternal lips. "Hello, maw! Didn't you expect me?" "Not till the ten-o'clock train, Louie. How's papa?" "He'th fine. I left him billing thom goods to Thpokane." "How's business, Louie?"
He kissed her gently as he placed her in the car, and the child threw her arms around his neck and pressed her little cheek against his for a moment ere he left. When the car had disappeared from view, Epstein escorted Miss Whimple home. They walked in silence for a little distance, and then she asked him suddenly, "When did you first meet William?" "Three years ago," he said smilingly.
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