, Bromfield," she added.

"Well, I don't either, my dear, to tell you the truth. My hardihood
surprises me. Here is a son of mine whom I see reduced to making his
living by a shrinkage in values. It's very odd," interjected Corey,
"that some values should have this peculiarity of shrinking. You never
hear of values in a picture shrinking; but rents, stocks, real
estate--all those values shrink abominably. Perhaps it might be argued
that one should put all his values into pictures; I've got a good many
of mine there."

"Tom needn't earn his living," said Mrs. Corey, refusing her husband's
jest. "There's still enough for all of us."

"That is what I have sometimes urged upon Tom. I have proved to him
that with economy, and strict attention to business, he need do nothing
as long as he lives. Of course he would be somewhat restricted, and it
would cramp the rest of us; but it is a world of sacrifices and
compromises. He couldn't agree with me, and he was not in the least
moved by the example of persons of quality in Europe, which I alleged
in support of the life of idleness. It appears that he wishes to do
something--to do something for himself. I am afraid that Tom is
selfish."

Mrs. Corey smiled wanly. Thirty years before, she had married the rich
young painter in Rome, who said so much better things than he
painted--charming things, just the things to please the fancy of a girl
who was disposed to take life a little too seriously and practically.
She saw him in a different light when she got him home to Boston; but
he had kept on saying the charming things, and he had not done much
else. In fact, he had fulfilled the promise of his youth. It was a
good trait in him that he was not actively but only passively
extravagant. He was not adventurous with his money; his tastes were as
simple as an Italian's; he had no expensive habits. In the process of
time he had grown to lead a more and more secluded life. It was hard
to get him out anywhere, even to dinner. His patience with their
narrowing circumstances had a pathos which she felt the more the more
she came into charge of their joint life. At times it seemed too bad
that the children and their education and pleasures should cost so
much. She knew, besides, that if it had not been for them she would
have gone back to Rome with him, and lived princely there for less than
it took to live respectably in Boston.

"Tom hasn't consulted me," continued h