r marry. Were you ever in love?"

The library lamp cast only a shaded light over Lloyd Fenneben lounging
comfortably in his chair. To a woman's eye he would have seemed the
picture of an ideal husband.

"Yes, I was in love once. I did n't marry because--because--I didn't."

"How romantic! Was it unrequited, or money, or what?" Norrie asked,
eagerly.

"Or what," he answered, and her finer sense made her change the subject.

"Say, Uncle Lloyd, Uncle Joshua says he wants me to marry."

"What's he up to now? Tell me about it."

Norrie was charming tonight in a dainty red evening gown that set off
her pretty face, crowned with beautiful dark hair. Somehow the sight of
her made deeper the void in Fenneben's life--since that love affair of
his own long ago.

"Well," Norrie went on, "Uncle says I'm to marry rich, because my papa
expected me to. He said papa had money which was mamma's and he used it
for college endowments, because the Wreams love colleges best, and that
it was his wish, and it's Uncle Joshua's too, that I should marry well.
I knew I came honestly by my love of spending. I inherited it from my
mother. Aren't the Wreams all funny men to just see nothing in money,
but a cap and gown and a Master's Degree? But you are a human being,
Uncle Lloyd. You wouldn't leave a daughter dependent on her uncles and
use her money to endow colleges, would you?" The white arm stole round
his neck affectionately, as Elinor added softly, "I'm going to tell you
something else. Uncle Joshua wants me to marry Professor Burgess."

"Do you want to marry him?" Fenneben asked.

"He hasn't asked me to yet. But he is such a gentleman and he has a
fortune in his own name, or in trust, or something like that. It would
please the Cambridge folks, and Uncle Joshua expects me to consent,
and I've never disobeyed uncle's wishes, so I couldn't refuse now. And,
well, if he'll wait till I'm ready, I guess it will suit me."

"He'll wait all right, if he wants you, Norrie. He must wait until you
graduate," the Dean declared.

"Oh, yes; a Wream without a college diploma is like a ship without a
compass, a mere derelict on life's sea. I'm in no hurry anyhow," and she
began to talk of other things.

In the months that followed Trench had no need to watch Professor
Burgess in his relation to Dennie Saxon, for Burgess had no thought of
her other than of kindly sympathy. That is, Burgess thought he had no
thought. He knew he was in love with E