couldn’t possibly get in any other way. They realize what it means to hold the place, and give me credit for it. We’re all human and it’s pleasant to be appreciated. If I went to work in a factory I’d be an alien—outside the circle—and I’d stay there.”

“There are eighty million people in the United States,” commented Roberts, drily. “By stretching, your circle would probably take in two thousand of that number.”

“I know it’s limited; but there’s an old saying that it’s better to be a big toad in a small puddle than a small toad in a large pond.” 19

“I recall there’s an adage to that effect.”

“Lastly, there’s another reason, the biggest of all. As it is now the State employs me to deliver a certain number of lectures a semester. I do this; and the rest of the time is mine. In it I can do what I please. If I accepted a position in a private enterprise it would be different. I should sell my time outright—and be compelled to deliver it all. I shouldn’t have an hour I could call my own except at night, and the chances are I shouldn’t have enough energy left for anything else when night came. You know what I’m trying to do—that I’m trying to work up a name as a writer. I’d have to give up that ambition entirely. I simply can’t or won’t do that yet.”

“You’ve been keeping up this—fight you mention for ten years now, you told me once. Is anything definite in sight?”

“No; not exactly definite; but Rome wasn’t built in a day. I’m willing to wait.”

“And meantime you’re getting older steadily.”

“I repeat I’m willing to wait—and trust a little.”

Tap, tap went the impatient fingers again.

“Something’s bound to drop in time if one is only patient.” 20

Roberts looked up quickly, the gray eyes keen, the tapping fingers stilled.

“Something has dropped, my friend, and you don’t recognize it.”

“The tape line again. The eternal tape line! It’s pure waste of energy, Darley, to attempt to make you understand. As I said before, you’re fundamentally incapable.”

“Perhaps,” evenly. “But for your sake I’ve listened and tried. At least give me credit for that.” Of a sudden he glanced up keenly. “By the way, you’re not going out this evening?”

“No, Elice is out of town.” Armstrong caught himself. “I suppose that is what you meant.”

For a moment before he answered Roberts busied himself with a stray flake of ash on his sleeve.

“Yes, in a way,” he said. “I was going to suggest that you tell her what you told me before you said ‘no’ to Graham.”

“It’s unnecessary.” The tone was a trifle stiff. “She at least understands me.”

The other man made no comment.

“You’re not going out either this evening, Darley?” returned Armstrong.

“No; I’m scheduled for bed early to-night. 21 I’ve had a strenuous day, and to-morrow will be another.”

It was already late of a rainy May evening, the room was getting dim, and silently Armstrong turned on the electric light. Following, in equal silence, his companion watching him the while understandingly, he lit a pipe. Stephen Armstrong seldom descended to a pipe, and when he did so the meaning of the action to one who knew him well was lucid. It meant confidence. Back in his seat he puffed hard for a half minute; then blew at the smoke above his head.

“Was that mere chance that made you suggest—Elice in connection with that offer of Graham’s,” he asked, at last; “or did you mean more than the question seemed to imply, Darley?”

Again for an appreciable space there was silence.

“I seldom do things by chance, Armstrong. To use your own simile, I’m too much of a fish. I don’t want to seem to interfere with your personal affairs, however. I beg your pardon if you wish.”

“But I don’t wish you to do so,” shortly. “You know that. Besides there’s nothing to conceal so far as I’m concerned. Just what did you mean to suggest?” 22

Again the other hesitated, with a reluctance that was not simulated. Darley Roberts simulated nothing.

“If you really wish to know,” he complied at last, “I think you ought to tell, her—without coloring the matter by your own point of view in the least. She should be as much interested as you yourself.”

“She is. Take that for granted.”

Roberts waited.

“I know, though, so certainly what she would say that it seems a bit superfluous.”

Still Roberts waited.

“As I said before, she understands me and I understand her. Some things don’t require language to express. They come by intuition.”

And still Roberts waited.

“If it were you, now, and there were any possibility of a yardstick it would be different; but as it is—”

“Miss Gleason then, Mrs. Armstrong to be, doesn’t care in the least to see you come on financially, is completely satisfied with things as they are?”

It was Armstrong’s turn to be silent.

“You’ve been engaged now three years. You’re thirty years old and Miss Gleason is—” 23

“Twenty-five in August.”

“She is wholly contented to let the engagement run on indefinitely, knowing that your income is barely enough for one to live on and not at all adequate for two?”

The other stiffened involuntarily; but he said nothing.

“I beg your pardon the second time, Armstrong, if you wish; but remember, please, I’m doing this by request.”

“I know, Darley. I’m not an absolute cad, and I’m glad you are frank. Doubtless from your point of view I’m a visionary ass. But I don’t see where any one suffers on that account except myself.”

“Don’t see where any one suffers save yourself! Don’t see—! You can’t be serious, man!”

Armstrong had ceased smoking. The pipe lay idle in his fingers.

“No. Come out into the clearing and put it in plain English. Just what do you mean?”

“Since you insist, I mean just this, Armstrong—and if you’ll think a moment you’ll realize for yourself it’s true: you can’t drift on forever the way you’re doing now. If you weren’t engaged it would be different; but you are engaged. Such being the case it implies a responsibility 24 and a big one. To dangle so is unjust to the girl. Let this apply in the abstract. It’s damnably unjust!”

“You think that I—”

“I don’t think at all, I know. We can theorize and moon and drift about in the clouds all we please; but when eventually our pipe goes out and we come down to earth this thing of marriage is practical. It’s give and take, with a whole lot to give. I haven’t been practising law and dealing with marital difficulties, to say nothing of divorces, without getting a few inside facts. Marriages are made in Heaven, perhaps, but married life is lived right here on earth; and the butcher and the rest play leading parts. I recognize I’m leading the procession a bit now, Armstrong; but as I said before, you can’t dangle much longer if you’re an honorable man; and then what