All at once he gave a curious laugh, went to the writing table and wrote
a few moments. Then he brought the letter to her. "Read that," said he,
standing behind her, his hands on her shoulders and an expression in his
face that made his resemblance to Hiram startling.

She read:

"MY DEAR MR. WHITNEY: I've been 'thinking it over' as you suggested. I've
decided to plug along in the old way, between the old landmarks. Let me
add that, if you should offer to give your stock to Tecumseh now, I'd
have to do my utmost to persuade the trustees not to take it until the
company was once more secure. You see, I feel it is absolutely necessary
that you have a large pecuniary interest in the success of our plans."

When Madelene had read she turned in the chair until she was looking up
at him. "Well?" she inquired. "What does it mean?"

He told her. "And," he concluded, "I wish I could be a great man, but I
can't. There's something small in me that won't permit it. No doubt
Franklin was right when he said life was a tunnel and one had to stoop,
and even occasionally to crawl, in order to get through it successfully.
Now--if I hadn't married you--"

"Always blaming me," she said, tenderly. "But even if you hadn't
married me, I suspect that sooner or later you'd have decided for being
a large man in a valley rather than a very small imitation man on a
mountain." Then, after a moment's thought, and with sudden radiance:
"But a man as big as you are wouldn't be let stay in the valley, no
matter how hard he tried."

He laughed. "I've no objection to the mountain top," said he. "But I see
that, if I get there, it'll have to be in my own way. Let's go out and
mail the letter."

And they went down the drive together to the post box, and, strolling
back, sat under the trees in the moonlight until nearly midnight, feeling
as if they had only just begun life together--and had begun it right.

* * * * *

When Charles Whitney had read the letter he tore it up, saying half-aloud
and contemptuously, "I was afraid there was too big a streak of fool in
him." Then, with a shrug: "What's the use of wasting time on that little
game--especially as I'd probably have left the university the whole
business in my will." He wrote Scarborough, proposing that they delay the
assessment until he had a chance to look further into the railway
situation. "I begin to understand the troubles down there, now that I've
taken ti