personality who had
been captivating him into forgetting everything else, at the
reappearance of the blank, the pale and insignificant personality
attached to a typewriting machine at ten dollars a week. No, not
insignificant, not blank--never again that, for him. He saw now the full
reality--and also why he, everyone, was so misled. She made him think of
the surface of the sea when the sky is gray and the air calm. It lies
smooth and flat and expressionless--inert, monotonous. But let sunbeam
strike or breeze ever so faint start up, and what a commotion of
unending variety! He could never look at her again without being
reminded of those infinite latent possibilities, without wondering what
new and perhaps more charming, more surprising varieties of look and
tone and manner could be evoked.

And while Sanders was talking--prosing on and on about things Norman
either already knew or did not wish to know--he was thinking of her. "If
she happens to meet a man with enough discernment to fall in love with
her," he said to himself, "he certainly will never weary. What a pity
that such a girl shouldn't have had a chance, should be wasted on some
unappreciative chucklehead of her class! What a pity she hasn't
ambition--or the quality, whatever it is--that makes those who have it
get on, whether they wish or no."

During the rest of the day he revolved from time to time indistinct
ideas of somehow giving this girl a chance. He wished Josephine would
and could help, or perhaps his sister Ursula. It was not a matter that
could be settled, or even taken up, in haste. No man of his mentality
and experience fails to learn how perilous it is in the least to
interfere in the destiny of anyone. And his notion involved not slight
interference with advice or suggestion or momentarily extended helping
hand, but radical change of the whole current of destiny. Also, he
appreciated how difficult it is for a man to do anything for a young
woman--anything that would not harm more than it would help. Only one
thing seemed clear to him--the "clever child" ought to have a chance.

He went to see Josephine after dinner that night His own house, while
richly and showily furnished, as became his means and station,
seemed--and indeed was--merely an example of simple, old-fashioned
"solid comfort" in comparison with the Burroughs palace. He had never
liked, but, being a true New Yorker, had greatly admired the splendor of
that palace, its costly a