as making serious
demands upon his new capacity. In a sense it was all very easy, all
very wonderful, yet sometimes dejection came. Then his head drooped
upon his folded arms, he doubted himself and his work, he told himself
that he was living in a fool's Paradise--a fool's Paradise indeed!

One afternoon there came a timid knock at his door. He turned in his
chair a little impatiently. Then his pen slipped from his fingers. His
left hand gripped the side of the table, his right hand the arm of his
chair. It was a dream, of course!

"I hope we do not disturb you, Mr. Burton?" the professor inquired,
with anxious amiability. "My daughter and I were in the neighborhood
and I could not resist the visit. We had some trouble at first in
finding you."

Burton rose to his feet. He was looking past the professor, straight
into Edith's eyes. In her white muslin gown, her white hat and flowing
white veil, she seemed to him more wonderful, indeed, than any of those
cherished fancies of her which had passed through his room night and day
to the music of his thoughts.

"I am glad," he said simply. "Of course I am glad to see you! Please
come in. It is very untidy here. I have been hard at work."

He placed chairs for them. The professor glanced around the room with
some satisfaction. It was bare, but there was nothing discordant upon
the walls or in the furniture. There were many evidences, too, of a
scholarly and cultivated taste. Edith had glided past him to the window
and was murmuring her praises of the view.

"I have never seen a prettier view of the river in my life," she
declared, "and I love your big window. It is almost like living out of
doors, this. And how industrious you have been!"

She pointed to the sea of loose sheets which covered the table and the
floor. He smiled. He was beginning to recover himself.

"I have been working very hard," he admitted.

"But why?" she murmured. "You are young. Surely there is plenty of
time? Is it because the thoughts have come to you and you dared not
daily with them? Or is it because you are like every one else--in such
a terrible hurry to become rich and famous?"

He shook his head.

"It is not that," he said. "I have no thought of either. Alas!" he
added, looking into her eyes, "I lack the great incentive!"

"Then why is it?" she whispered.

"You must not ask our young friend too many questions," the professor
interrupted, a trifle impatiently. "Tell me, Mr. Burton,