out woman's fitness and woman's unfitness for many things. At last,
perhaps because he was a little cornered, Hubert said:

"Now, doctor, there was a queer thing happened to a student in my class
in the seminary. I don't suppose, doctor, that you are much interested
in a love story, but I would just like to tell you this one, because I
think you dare not apply your principles to it in every part. Theories
often fail when practically applied, you know."

"Go on, Hu, go on; I'd like to hear the story. And as for my
principles, they'll bear applying anywhere!" and the old doctor rubbed
his hands together confidently.

"This friend of mine, Henry Gilbert," said Hu, "was, like myself, poor.
A long time ago, when he was a boy, the son of a poor widow, the lot on
which he lived joined at the back the lot on which lived a Mr. Morton,
at that time a thriving merchant, now the principal capitalist in that
part of the country. As there was a back gate between the lots, my
friend was the constant playmate from earliest childhood of Jennie
Morton. He built her playhouses out of old boards, he molded clay
bricks for her use, and carved tiny toys out of pine blocks for her
amusement. As he grew larger, and as Jennie's father grew richer and
came to live in greater style, Henry grew more shy. But by all the
unspoken language of the eyes the two never failed to make their
unchanging regard known to each other.

"Henry went to college early. At vacation time the two met. But the
growing difference in their social position could not but be felt.
Jennie's friends were of a different race from his own. Her parents
never thought of inviting him to their entertainments. And if they had,
a rusty coat and a lack of money to spend on kid gloves would have
effectually kept him away. He was proud. This apparent neglect stung
him. It is true that Jennie Morton was all the more kind. But his quick
and foolish pride made him fancy that he detected pity in her kindness.
And yet all this only made him determined to place himself in a
position in which he could ask her hand as her equal. But you do not
understand, doctor, as I do, how irresistible is this conviction of
duty in regard to the ministry. Under that pressure my friend settled
it that he must preach. And now there was before him a good ten years
of poverty at least. What should he do about it?

"In his extremity he took advice of a favorite theological professor.
The professor advised hi