seriously except themselves, and for the
most part they were bad rhymesters of decadent verse. Shirley was
astonished to see so many of them busily engaged smoking
cigarettes and imbibing glasses of a pale-green beverage, which
Jefferson told her was absinthe.

"When do they read?" she asked. "When do they attend lectures?"

"Oh," laughed Jefferson, "only the old-fashioned students take
their studies seriously. Most of the men you see there are from
the provinces, seeing Paris for the first time, and having their
fling. Incidentally they are studying life. When they have sown
their wild oats and learned all about life--provided they are
still alive and have any money left--they will begin to study
books. You would be surprised to know how many of these young men,
who have been sent to the University at a cost of goodness knows
what sacrifices, return to their native towns in a few months
wrecked in body and mind, without having once set foot in a
lecture room, and, in fact, having done nothing except inscribe
their names on the rolls."

Shirley was glad she knew no such men, and if she ever married and
had a son she would pray God to spare her that grief and
humiliation. She herself knew something about the sacrifices
parents make to secure a college education for their children. Her
father had sent her to Vassar. She was a product of the
much-sneered-at higher education for women, and all her life she
would be grateful for the advantages given her. Her liberal
education had broadened her outlook on life and enabled her to
accomplish the little she had. When she graduated her father had
left her free to follow her own inclinations. She had little taste
for social distractions, and still she could not remain idle. For
a time she thought of teaching to occupy her mind, but she knew
she lacked the necessary patience, and she could not endure the
drudgery of it, so, having won honors at college in English
composition, she determined to try her hand at literature. She
wrote a number of essays and articles on a hundred different
subjects which she sent to the magazines, but they all came back
with politely worded excuses for their rejection. But Shirley kept
right on. She knew she wrote well; it must be that her subjects
were not suitable. So she adopted new tactics, and persevered
until one day came a letter of acceptance from the editor of one
of the minor magazines. They would take the article offered--a
sketch of c