lovable. So gay or so sad. Generous when they have
money; unconcerned when they have none."

"Do you write about them?"

"Sometimes."

"I'd like to see what you say."

"I do not write well yet. I am still amateur."

"How long have you been writing?"

"Five or six years."

"Were you in earnest when you said that you had not published anything?"

"Yes. I have never even offered anything."

"Why?"

She told him of her talk with the editor, when she came first to New
York, of his advice, of his words of inspiration about the art to which
she wished to devote herself. He listened with deep interest.

"Ah! that was good. That was sound idealism. And what have you done to
prepare yourself?"

"Read much, tried to absorb the best styles; and I have written all the
time."

"About what?"

"People."

"People you know, or people you create?"

"Both; but more of the ones I create."

"I wish you would let me see something. It would give me pleasure and it
might help you."

"Of course it would, but I wouldn't dare show you my things," she began.

"My child, the time comes when the artist becomes too self-conscious,
with no criticism, no audience as corrective. Suppose we make a compact
of friendship together; then we can freely give and take from each
other."

A sudden mist clouded her eyes. She let him see it, in the direct glance
she gave him. It touched him deeply, it suggested so poignantly the
woman's loneliness.

"You agree?" he asked gently.

"Oh, yes."

"The World and his Wife are my acquaintances, but of friends I have few.
Is it so with you?"

"I have none."

"How can that be? I feel that you would have a talent for friendship."

"I believe I would have. But I am poor. The things I might offer would
not interest the people I know."

"But these artists--aren't they congenial?"

"Miss Roberts would be, but you see I occupy an anomalous position here.
I'm an upper servant, who is no servant. True to my group, I have my
class distinctions," she smiled. "Miss Roberts ignores them. She would
be my friend if I would let her. Some of the others would, too, I
think."

"Pride is one of the strongest traits in human character, and one of the
least desirable; don't you think so? Pride of possession, pride of
class, of birth, of accomplishment; why do we build up these barriers
between us, when the whole process of life should be to break them
down, to get closer to one another, to understand and