is soul. He
thought of going out to call on the Jim Blaisdells or for dinners with
the men he had used to know. But he shrank from that because he
supposed his old friends must be saying, "That David Quentin--poor
Davy!--has quite petered out, hasn't he?" As probably they were.

He had sense enough to understand that these nights were not good for
him.

"As far as I know, I've got to exist a good many years yet and make a
living for myself and Shirley and Davy Junior. So I mustn't let myself
get into this sort of a rut. I must hunt up a more cheerful place to
stay."

When a love is dead, it is dead, and there's an end to it. After a
decent period of mourning you get used to the fact. . . .

The office, after all, was not so unbearably prison-like. There was
the balm of friendship--a double friendship--which is good for the
self-respect of a man. And there was the work, with which he was
growing more familiar and which, therefore, was more easily and quickly
and better done. At his own suggestion the scope of his duties had
been broadened; and he borrowed books from the library and tried to
study out schemes to systematize Jonathan's business. Some of these
schemes were not wholly absurd and one or two were adopted, which
pleased Jonathan far more than David. Strictly speaking, David was not
putting his heart into his work, but he was giving fidelity and a
desire to do his best; and he was getting back, perhaps not happiness,
but at least a measure of the honest workman's best reward. So that
Jonathan's theorem was given a partial demonstration. Jonathan saw.

"Mother," he said one evening, "I am more than a little ashamed. I
took David Quentin into the office because Mr. Blaisdell said he was
badly in need of a position and nothing else offered. I'm afraid I
thought it a charity and was rather patronizing at first. I'm afraid,"
Jonathan sighed, "I am puffed up at times by my charities, which don't
amount to so much, after all."

"We are not required to be _too_ humble," she reminded him. "Why are
you ashamed just now?"

"It wasn't charity at all. David is really a very capable man and a
hard worker. He more than earns his salary--I'll have to raise that
very soon. I can't understand how he failed as an architect."

"Perhaps he didn't have the right talent. I understand architecture is
a very difficult profession."

"It is a noble art," said Jonathan, "and very few men have the talent.
Th