through the garden, and the hesitation forced the
question from Hamlen's lips.

"Don't you care to see the view from the Point?"

"Not to-day," Huntington answered frankly. "I want to come again and
examine every cranny; but to-day, Hamlen, my interest lies in something
deeper. You have shown me what you are by profession; now show me what
you are by nature. You remember the old Greek adage, 'Would you know a
man, give him power.' My version of it is 'Would you know a man, give
him leisure'; for leisure is the expression of power, the stored-up
capital of that unmeasured treasure called Time whose currency is in the
blood and which promotes life itself. Here, in these grounds, your work
has been similar to that of any one of us in his office. Now I want to
know the man. Take me to his workshop."

Hamlen understood him beyond the necessity of further words. He had told
Marian that it was in his books that he found his relaxation, but it was
not to his library that he now silently led his guest. It was to a small
room on the back of the villa, in which Huntington found cases of type,
a hand-press, and a bench containing every description of binder's
tools. As they entered Hamlen closed the door behind them.

"I don't know why I brought you here," he spoke apologetically, "except
that by what you just said you seemed to know this place existed. No one
else has ever entered with me, for I have a sentiment about it which
would seem ridiculous to any one except myself."

"It is a miniature printing-office and bindery combined!"

"This is where I spend my leisure. This is where I withdraw into a
solitude even more complete than that in which I live. These
books"--pointing to a case near by--"represent the pitifully meager
contribution which I have made to the world while you and my other
classmates have taken the positions to which you are entitled. That I
show them to you now is a confession of the narrow outlook I have always
had on life."

Huntington was busy examining the volumes, one by one, giving no sign
that he heard the crisp words. He turned the leaves critically, he
examined the bindings, he studied the typography and the designs. Then
at length he looked up.

"I was mistaken when I said I did not know you," he remarked.

"I don't understand," Hamlen replied.

"Printing as an art has always been a hobby of mine," Huntington
explained. "With two exceptions I have every one of these books in my
collection