ay. I didn't know anybody did. I don't want
to make trouble in the family--any more trouble. Grandmother has been
awfully good to me; so, too, has Grandfather, I suppose, in his way.
But--oh, what am I going to do? I can't stay in that office all my life.
I'm not good at business. I don't like it. I can't give up--"

"No, no, course you mustn't. I don't want you to give up."

"Then what do you want me to do?"

"I want you to go to your grandpa and talk to him once more. Not givin'
up your plans altogether but not forcin' him to give up his either, not
right away. Tell him you realize he wants you to go on with Z. Snow and
Company and that you will--for a while--"

"But--"

"For a while, I said; three or four years, say. You won't be so dreadful
old then, not exactly what you'd call a Methusalem. Tell him you'll
do that and on his side he must let you write as much as you please,
provided you don't let the writin' interfere with the Z. Snow and Co.
work. Then, at the end of the three or four years, if you still feel
the same as you do now, you can tackle your poetry for keeps and he and
you'll still be friends. Tell him that, Albert, and see what he says.
. . . Will you?"

Albert took some moments to consider. At length he said: "If I did I
doubt if he would listen."

"Oh, yes he would. He'd more than listen, I'm pretty sartin. I think
he'd agree."

"You do?"

"Yes, I do. You see," with a smile, "while I've been talkin' to you
there's been somebody else talkin' to him. . . . There, there! don't you
ask any questions. I promised not to tell anybody and if I ain't exactly
broke that promise, I've sprained its ankle, I'm afraid. Good night,
Albert, and thank you ever and ever so much for listenin' so long
without once tellin' me to mind my own business."

"Good night, Rachel. . . . And thank you for taking so much interest in
my affairs. You're an awfully good friend, I can see that."

"Don't--don't talk that way. And you WILL have that talk with your
grandpa?"

"Yes, I will."

"Oh, I'm SO glad! There! Good night. I come pretty nigh kissin' you
then and for a woman that's been engaged to be married for upwards of
eighteen years that's a nice way to act, ain't it! Good night, good
night."

She hurried out of the room. Albert sat down again in his chair by the
window. He had promised to go to his grandfather and talk to him. As he
sat there, thinking of the coming interview, he realized more and more
that