Having  completed  his  letter  he  lighted  an-
other cigar,  and  leaning  back  in  his  revolving

199


MOTHER  CAREY'S  CHICKENS


chair  clasped  his  hands  behind  his  head  and  fell
into  a  reverie.  The  various  diplomatic  posts
that  might  be  opened  to  him  crossed  his  mind
in  procession.  If  A  or  B  or  C  were  possible,  his
wife  would  be  content,  and  their  combined  in-
comes might  be  sufficient  to  bring  the  children
together,  if  not  quite  under  one  roof,  then  to
points  not  so  far  separated  from  each  other  but
that  a  speaking  acquaintance  might  be  devel-
oped. Tom  was  the  farthest  away,  and  he  was
the  dearest;  the  only  Hamilton  of  the  lot;  the
only  one  who  loved  his  father.
Mr.  Hamilton  leaned  forward  abstractedly,
and  fumbling  through  one  drawer  of  his  desk
after  another  succeeded  in  bringing  out  a  photo-
graph of  Tom,  taken  at  seventeen  or  eighteen.
Then  by  a  little  extra  search  he  found  his  wife
in  her  presentation  dress  at  a  foreign  court.
There  was  no  comfort  or  companionship  in  that,
it  was  too  furbelowed  to  be  anybody's  wife,  -
but  underneath  it  in  the  same  frame  was  one
taken  just  after  their  marriage.  That  was  too
full  of  memories  to  hold  much  joy,  but  it  stirred
his  heart,  and  made  it  beat  a  little;  enough  at
any  rate  to  show  it  was  not  dead.  In  the  letter
case  in  his  vest  pocket  was  an  almost  forgotten
picture  of  the  girls  when  they  were  children.
This  with  the  others  he  stood  in  a  row  in  front

200


A  FAMILY  RHOMBOID


of  him,  reminding  himself  that  he  did  not  know
the  subjects  much  more  intimately  than  the
photographers  who  had  made  their  likenesses.
