"To you, yes, for you have told me your greatest."

"Then, with the privilege of silence for both, begin."

"Ah, you begin already to fear the gimlet! Yes. Nothing is to be told that--There again we lack a definition, do we not? Never mind. We shall understand. You knew her in Germany?"

"Yes."

"And she--You wear a mask, at moments even merry-faced, but now and again I have surprised a look of such sadness in your eyes that--Is that why you came to America? She"--

"No. She was, and is, in so different a cla.s.s, that I never"--

"You should not allow that to be a bar! Any woman"--

"But even more, there are other claims upon me, which make marriage out of the question."

"And this is why you have resigned reputation for money-making? Is there no escape? Oh, it seems too cruel to be!"

"You draw it worse than it is, Miss Walton, forgetting that I told you of my happiness in loving."

"You make me proud to feel that we are friends, Dr. Hartzmann," you said gently. "I hope she is worthy of such a love?"

I merely nodded; and after a slight pause you remarked, "Now it is only fair to give you a turn."

I had been pondering, after my first impulsive a.s.sent, over my right to win your confidence, with the one inevitable conclusion that was so clear, and I answered, "I have no questions to ask, Miss Walton."

"Then I can ask no more, of course," you replied quietly, and at once turned the conversation into less personal subjects, until the time came for our return to My Fancy.

When we parted in the upper hall, that evening, you said to me, "I always value your opinion, and it usually influences me. Do you, as your speech to-night implied, think it right to go on loving baseness?"

"It is not a question of right and wrong, but only whether the love remains."

"Then you don't think it a duty to crush it out?"

"No. All love is n.o.ble that is distinct from self."

You held out your hand. "I am so glad you think so, and that you spoke your thought. You have done me a great kindness,--greater far than you can ever know. Thank you, and good-night."

Good-night, Maizie.

XX

_March 11._ When I left My Fancy, after my visit, Agnes had nothing but praise for me. "I was certain that you and Maizie would be friends if you ever really knew each other," she said triumphantly. Unfortunately, our first meeting in the city served only to prove the reverse. In one of my daily walks up-town, I met you and Agnes outside a shop where you had been buying Christmas gifts for the boys of your Neighborhood Guild.

You were looking for the carriage, about which there had been some mistake, and I helped you search. When our hunt was unsuccessful, you both said you would rather walk than let me get a cab, having been deterred only by the growing darkness, and not by the snow. So chatting merrily, away we went, through the elfin flakes which seemed so eager to kiss your cheeks, till your home was reached.

"If we come in, will you give us some tea?" asked Agnes.

"Tea, cake, chocolates, and conversation," you promised.

"I am sorry," I said, "but I cannot spare the time."

I thought you and Agnes exchanged glances. "Please, Doc--" she began; but you interrupted her by saying proudly, "We must not take any more of Dr. Hartzmann's time, Agnes. Will you come in?"

"No," replied Agnes. "I'll go home before it's any darker. Good-night."

I started to walk with her the short distance, but the moment we were out of hearing she turned towards me and cried, "I hate you!" As I made no reply, she demanded impatiently, "What makes you behave so abominably?" When I was still silent she continued: "I told you how Maizie felt, and I thought it was all right, and now you do it again.

It's too bad! Well, can't you say something? Why do you do it?"

"There is nothing for me to say, Miss Blodgett," I responded sadly.

"You might at least do it to please me," she persisted, "even if you don't like Maizie."

I made no answer, and we walked the rest of the distance in silence. At the stoop, however, Agnes asked, "Will you go with me to call on Maizie, some afternoon?"

I shook my head.

"Not even to please mamma and me?" she questioned.

Again I gave the same answer, and without a word of parting she left me and pa.s.sed through the doorway. From that time she has treated me coldly.

Another complication only tended to increase the coldness, as well as to involve me with Mrs. Blodgett. In December, Mr. Blodgett came into Mr.

Whitely's office and announced, "I've been taking a liberty with your name, doctor."

"For what kindness am I indebted now?" I inquired.

"I'm a member of the Philomathean," he said,--"not because I'm an author, or artist, or engineer, or scientist, but because I'm a big frog in my own puddle, and they want samples of us, provided we are good fellows, just to see what we're like. I was talking with Professor Eaton in September, and we agreed you ought to be one of us; so we stuck your name up, and Sat.u.r.day evening the club elected you."

"I can't afford it"--I began; but he interrupted with:--

"I knew you'd say that, and so didn't tell you beforehand. I'll bet you your initiation fee and a year's dues against a share of R. T. common that you'll make enough out of your membership to pay you five times over."

"How can I do that?"

"All the editors and publishers are members," he replied, "and to meet them over the rum punch we serve on meeting nights is worth money to the most celebrated author living. Then you'll have the best club library in this country at your elbow for working purposes."

"I don't think I ought, Mr. Blodgett."

He was about to protest, when Mr. Whitely broke in upon us, saying, "Accept your membership, Dr. Hartzmann, and the paper shall pay your initiation and dues."

I do not know whether Mr. Blodgett or myself was the more surprised at this unexpected and liberal offer. Our amazement was so obvious that Mr.

Whitely continued: "I think it'll be an excellent idea for the paper to have a member of its staff in the Philomathean, and so the office shall pay for it."

"Whitely," observed Mr. Blodgett admiringly, "you're a good business man, whatever else you are!"

"I wish, Blodgett," inquired Mr. Whitely, "you would tell me why I have been kept waiting so long?"