the literary editor's words of wisdom that had driven
Philip to London. Helen Carey was in London, visiting the daughter
of the American Ambassador; and, though Philip had known her only one
winter, he loved her dearly. The great trouble was that he had no money,
and that she possessed so much of it that, unless he could show some
unusual quality of mind or character, his asking her to marry him, from
his own point of view at least, was quite impossible. Of course, he knew
that no one could love her as he did, that no one so truly wished for
her happiness, or would try so devotedly to make her happy. But to him
it did not seem possible that a girl could be happy with a man who was
not able to pay for her home, or her clothes, or her food, who would
have to borrow her purse if he wanted a new pair of gloves or a
hair-cut. For Philip Endicott, while rich in birth and education and
charm of manner, had no money at all. When, in May, he came from New
York to lay siege to London and to the heart of Helen Carey he had with
him, all told, fifteen hundred dollars. That was all he possessed in the
world; and unless the magazines bought his stories there was no prospect
of his getting any more.

Friends who knew London told him that, if you knew London well, it was
easy to live comfortably there and to go about and even to entertain
modestly on three sovereigns a day. So, at that rate, Philip calculated
he could stay three months. But he found that to know London well enough
to be able to live there on three sovereigns a day you had first to
spend so many five-pound notes in getting acquainted with London that
there were no sovereigns left. At the end of one month he had just
enough money to buy him a second-class passage back to New York, and he
was as far from Helen as ever.

Often he had read in stories and novels of men who were too poor to
marry. And he had laughed at the idea. He had always said that when two
people truly love each other it does not matter whether they have money
or not. But when in London, with only a five-pound note, and face to
face with the actual proposition of asking Helen Carey not only to marry
him but to support him, he felt that money counted for more than he had
supposed. He found money was many different things--it was self-respect,
and proper pride, and private honors and independence. And, lacking
these things, he felt he could ask no girl to marry him, certainly not
one for whom he cared as