On such evenings, late, if Nina and Eileen had gone to a dance, or to
the opera with Boots, Austin, ruddy with well-being and shamelessly
slippered, stretched luxuriously in the fire warmth, lazily discussing
what was nearest to him--his children and wife, and the material comfort
which continued to attend him with the blessing of that heaven which
seems so largely occupied in fulfilling the desires of the good for
their own commercial prosperity.
Too, he had begun to show a peculiar pride in the commercial development
of Gerald, speaking often of his gratifying application to business, the
stability of his modest position, the friends he was making among men of
substance, their regard for him.
"Not that the boy is doing much of a business yet," he would say with a
tolerant shrug of his big fleshy shoulders, "but he's laying the
foundation for success--a good, upright, solid foundation--with the
doubtful scheming of Neergard left out"--at that time Neergard had not
yet gone to pieces, physically--"and I expect to aid him when aid is
required, and to extend to him, judiciously, such assistance, from time
to time, as I think he may require.
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