dio
(the one I used to share with him) by his fellow students.

"Not a word from you; later on a letter from George, full of happiness
and your charms and explaining to me how it came about he could marry.
He had been one of the poorest among a lot of fellows, where poverty was
the rule and not the exception; but his uncle, the Brooklyn politician,
had died and left him a hundred thousand dollars. That seemed immense
wealth to the Latin Quarter, and there was rejoicing in all of the
ateliers where George O'Brien was a general favorite and Lizzie Peck was
known as the prettiest American girl in the Quarter.

"The shock was so great I was like a dead man for weeks, but I never
told a soul of my pitiful love affair. I got over the loss of you as
soon as I could pull myself together enough to think that if you were
the kind who could do as you did, I was well out of it; and George had
my pity and not my envy. But my Art--my Art--nothing can ever make up to
me for giving it up. I could not go back to it, as I had plunged too
deeply into the foundry affairs to pull out, and one cannot serve
business and Art at the same time. Art is too jealous a mistress to
share her lover's time with anything else. I went on with the work and
came out very well.

"This is the first real holiday I have had for many years, but I am
determined to have a good time and am not going to let regret prey upon
me."

Molly had been a forced listener to this long speech, but she could not
fool herself into thinking she had been an unwilling one. She was
thrilled to the soul by Mr. Kinsella's history. No wonder he was so sad
looking and occasionally so bitter! She was glad he had not truckled to
the spoiled Mrs. Huntington, but had let her know exactly where he
stood. It was not so very chivalrous of him, but she needed a good
mental and moral slap and Mr. Kinsella had administered it as gently as
possible, no doubt.

What was Molly to do now? To let them know she was there would make it
horribly embarrassing for all concerned, and still she felt she had
already heard more than she had any business to know.

"I'll have to pretend I am asleep and never divulge to a soul, (except
Mother, of course,) that I have overheard this tremendously interesting
conversation."

Mrs. Huntington was silenced for a few moments by Mr. Kinsella's
harangue, but finally spoke:

"Tom, you are hard on me. I was very young at the time and had always
been so poor."