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Transcriber's Note:

The underscore character "_" is used in this book to indicate italics
markup in the original, as in "Then he _must_ hold on." The only
exception to this is where it is used to indicate a subscript,
specifically in H_20 and CO_2, the common chemical formulas for water
and carbon dioxide referenced in the text.




[Illustration: "DON DEAR, YOU'RE LIVING TOO MUCH DOWNTOWN"]




THE WALL STREET GIRL

BY

FREDERICK ORIN BARTLETT

WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY

GEORGE ELLIS WOLFE

NEW YORK

GROSSET & DUNLAP

PUBLISHERS




COPYRIGHT, 1915 AND 1916, BY EVERY WEEK CORPORATION

COPYRIGHT, 1916, BY FREDERICK ORIN BARTLETT

ALL RIGHTS RESERVED

Published September 1916




TO

THALIA




CONTENTS

       I. Don Receives a Jolt                                        1
      II. It Becomes Necessary to Eat                               11
     III. The Queen Was in the Parlor                               20
      IV. Concerning Sandwiches                                     27
       V. Business                                                  43
      VI. Two Girls                                                 64
     VII. Roses                                                     71
    VIII. A Man of Affairs                                          80
      IX. It Will Never Do                                          93
       X. Dictation                                                100
      XI. Steak, With Mushrooms and Advice                         111
     XII. A Social Widow                                           123
    XIII. Dear Sir--                                               129
     XIV. In Reply                                                 138
      XV. Cost                                                     144
     XVI. A Memorandum                                             153
    XVII. On the Way Home                                          161
   XVIII. A Discourse on Salaries                                  171
     XIX. A Letter                                                 184
      XX. Stars                                                    185
     XXI. In the Dark                                              193
    XXII. The Sensible Thing                                       200
   XXIII. Looking Ahead                                            207
    XXIV. Vacations                                                215
     XXV. In the Park                                              223
    XXVI. One Stuyvesant                                           238
   XXVII. The Stars Again                                          247
  XXVIII. Seeing                                                   256
    XXIX. Mostly Sally                                             264
     XXX. Don Explains                                             275
    XXXI. Sally Decides                                            295
   XXXII. Barton Appears                                           305
  XXXIII. A Bully World                                            317
   XXXIV. Don Makes Good                                           321
    XXXV. "Home, John"                                             330




THE WALL STREET GIRL




CHAPTER I

DON RECEIVES A JOLT


Before beginning to read the interesting document in front of him,
Jonas Barton, senior member of Barton & Saltonstall, paused to clean
his glasses rather carefully, in order to gain sufficient time to
study for a moment the tall, good-looking young man who waited
indifferently on the other side of the desk. He had not seen his late
client's son since the latter had entered college--a black-haired,
black-eyed lad of seventeen, impulsive in manner and speech. The
intervening four years had tempered him a good deal. Yet, the
Pendleton characteristics were all there--the square jaw, the rather
large, firm mouth, the thin nose, the keen eyes. They were all there,
but each a trifle subdued: the square jaw not quite so square as the
father's, the mouth not quite so large, the nose so sharp, or the
eyes so keen. On the other hand, there was a certain fineness that the
father had lacked.

In height Don fairly matched his father's six feet, although he still
lacked the Pendleton breadth of shoulder.

The son was lean, and his cigarette--a dilettante variation of honest
tobacco-smoking that had always been a source of irritation to his
father--did not look at all out of place between his long, thin
fingers; in fact, nothing else would have seemed quite suitable.
Barton was also forced to admit to himself that the young man, in some
miraculous way, managed to triumph over his rather curious choice of
raiment, based presumably on current styles. In and of themselves the
garments were not beautiful. From Barton's point of view, Don's straw
hat was too large and too high in the crown. His black-and-white check
suit was too conspicuous and cut close to the figure in too feminine a
fashion. His lavender socks, which matched a lavender tie, went well
enough with the light stick he carried; but, in Barton's opinion, a
young man of twenty-two had no business to carry a light stick. By no
stretch of the imagination could one picture the elder Pendleton in
such garb, even in his jauntiest days. And yet, as worn by Don, it
seemed as if he could not very well have worn anything else. Even the
mourning-band about his left arm, instead of adding a somber touch,
afforded an effective bit of contrast. This, however, was no fault of
his. That mourning has artistic possibilities is a happy fact that has
brought gentle solace to many a widow.

On the whole, Barton could not escape the deduction that the son
reflected the present rather than the past. Try as he might, it was
difficult for him to connect this young man with Grandfather
Pendleton, shipbuilder of New Bedford, or with the father who in his
youth commanded the Nancy R. But that was by no means his duty--as Don
faintly suggested when he uncrossed his knees and hitched forward
impatiently.

"Your father's will is dated three years ago last June," began
Barton.

"At the end of my freshman year," Don observed.

Jonas Barton adjusted his spectacles and began to read. He read slowly
and very distinctly, as if anxious to give full value to each
syllable:

"New York City, borough of Manhattan, State of New York. I, Donald
Joshua Pendleton, being of sound mind and--"

Donald Pendleton, Jr., waved an objection with his cigarette.

"Can't you cut out all the legal stuff and just give me the gist of
it? There's no doubt about father having been of sound mind and so
forth."

"It is customary--" began the attorney.

"Well, we'll break the custom," Don cut in sharply.

Barton glanced up. It might have been his late client speaking; it
gave him a start.

"As you wish," he assented. "Perhaps, however, I may be allowed to
observe that in many ways your father's will is peculiar."

"It wouldn't be father's will if it wasn't peculiar," declared Don.

Barton pushed the papers away from him.

"Briefly, then," he said, "your father leaves his entire estate to
you--in trust."

Don leaned forward, his stick grasped in his gloved hands.

"I don't get that last."

"In trust," repeated Barton with emphasis. "He has honored our firm
with the commission of serving as a board of trustees for carrying out
the terms of the will."

"You mean to fix my allowance?"

"To carry out the terms of the will, which are as follows: namely, to
turn over to you, but without power of conveyance, the paternal
domicile on West Sixtieth Street with all its contents."

Don frowned.

"Paternal domicile--I can translate that all right. I suppose you mean
the house. But what's that line 'without power of conveyance'?"

"It means that you are at liberty to occupy the premises, but that you
are to have no power to sell, to rent, or to dispose of the property
in any way whatsoever."

Don appeared puzzled.

"That's a bit queer. What do you suppose Dad thought I wanted of a
place that size to live in?"

"I think your father was a man of considerable sentiment."

"Eh?"

"Sentiment," Barton repeated. "It was there you were born, and there
your mother died."

"Yes, that's all correct; but--well, go on."

"The rest of the document, if you insist upon a digest, consists
principally of directions to the trustees. Briefly, it provides that
we invest the remainder of the property in safe bonds and apply the
interest to meet taxes on the aforesaid paternal domicile, to retain
and pay the wages of the necessary servants, to furnish fuel and
water, and to maintain the house in proper repair."

"Well, go on."

"In case of your demise--"

"You may skip my demise; I'm not especially interested in that."

"Then I think we have covered all the more important provisions,"
Barton concluded.

"All?" exclaimed Don. "What do you think I'm going to live on?"

Here was the clash for which Barton had been waiting. His face
hardened, and he shoved back his chair a little.

"I am not able to find any provision in the will relating to that," he
answered.

"Eh? But what the deuce--"

For a moment Don stared open-mouthed at the lawyer. Then he reached in
his pocket for his cigarettes, selected one with some deliberation,
and tapped an end upon the case.

"You said Dad had considerable sentiment," he observed. "It strikes me
he has shown more humor than sentiment."

Barton was still aggressive. To tell the truth, he expected some
suggestion as to the possibility of breaking the will; but if ever he
had drawn a paper all snug and tight, it was the one in question.

"Damme," Pendleton, Sr., had said. "Damme,