aw clearly that
it was his privilege and his duty to be true to both his loves, his wife
and his profession, and that if he neglected either, he would be so far
false to his best needs and aspirations. Yet he felt that for the moment
it was incumbent on him to err on the side of devotion to his wife until
she should become accustomed to her new surroundings.

The problem of the proper arrangement and subdivision of life in a large
city and in these seething, modern times is perplexing to all of us.
There are so many things we would like to do which we cannot; so many
things which we do against our wills. We are perpetually squinting at
happiness, but just as we get a delightful vision before our eyes we are
whisked off by duty or ambition or the force of social momentum to try a
different view. Consequently our perennial regret is apt to be that we
have seen our real interests and our real friends as in a panorama, for
a fleeting moment, and then no more until the next time. For Littleton
this was less true than for most. His life was deep and stable rather
than many-sided. To be sure his brain experienced, now and then, the
dazing effects of trying to confront all the problems of the universe
and adapt his architectural endeavors to his interpretation of them; and
he knew well the bewildering difficulties of the process of adjusting
professional theories to the sterile conditions which workaday practice
often presented. But this crowding of his mental canvas was all in the
line of his life purpose. The days were too short, and sometimes left
him perplexed and harassed by their rush; yet he was still pursuing the
tenor of his way. The interest of marriage was not, therefore, in his
case a fresh burden on a soul already laden with a variety of side
pursuits. He was neither socially nor philanthropically active; he was
not a club man, nor an athletic enthusiast; he was on no committees; he
voted on election days, but he did not take an active part in politics.
For Selma's sake all this must be changed; and he was glad to
acknowledge that he owed it to himself as well as to her to widen his
sympathies.

As a first step in reform he began to leave his office daily at five
instead of six, and, on Saturdays, as soon after two as possible. For a
few months these brands of time snatched from the furnace of his
professional ardor were devoted to the shopping relative to
house-furnishing. When that was over, to walking with Selm