the same thing. I have no fancy for a
profession; I have no genius for art, though Miss Lawrence suggests that
I might become a man-milliner--is that what you call it? You know, I am
staying here because mother and grandmother will not go anywhere else.
And I dare say I make as much money as young Dr. Romer or Ned Remington.
And somehow, now that I'm in it, I go on with a stubborn, plucky
feeling. Some day I'll be a great manufacturer."

This time his laugh was cheerful and ringing.

"You see, Sylvie, your good-nature places you on the debatable ground.
You and your aunt could be hand-in-glove with all these great people,
and yet you open your generous heart to take in everybody."

"No, not everybody, Jack. And what a little coward I am just this
minute! No, it is not that either. Jack, you _do_ know that I should
never be a bit ashamed of you before any one. I feel vexed when I think
that you could take the high places, and yet you let people put you
down,--people not half as worthy or half as good as you. There's Horace
Eastman. He came here a comparatively poor man; and now he owns half
Yerbury, and talks of the mill-hands as if they were--well, a flock of
sheep."

"An apt comparison, Sylvie. To my mind, they are shorn pretty close to
make broadcloth for their masters."

"And there is Fred--have you seen him since his return?"

"Not to speak to him, of course." And then Jack flushed deeply, with a
little hurt feeling.

"And what friends you were! Is it the way of the world? Then it is a
mean, hateful world!"

"Sylvie, you are talking wildly. Don't you see there is no point of
union in our lives? Now, I do not feel so badly over an outgrown
friendship. When I was a little boy, I remember having a wonderful fancy
for Tom Deane. We traded jack-knives; we told each other of the best
nut-trees; we hunted squirrels; we coasted together; and, I dare say, he
was as much of a hero in my childish eyes as I used to be in Fred's. But
think of any friendship between us now! There isn't a greater loafer in
all Yerbury than Tom Deane. Why, we have not a feeling in common."

"Still I think it is rather different," and a shade of annoyance passed
over her face. If Jack only would not call up these people below him, if
he would not identify himself so strongly with that common brotherhood!
He had so many nice tastes, such a clean, pure, honest soul. And, young
as Sylvie was, she knew this was not always the result of culture