se I couldn't make a good enough living." David flushed as he
said it. How pitifully poor, despite all his late philosophizing, that
reason sounded! "Mr. Radbourne, let us drop the subject."

But the shining-eyed Jonathan would not drop it.

"I think I can understand," he said gently. "Because it seemed the
best thing for others, you gave up the work you wanted to do and were
fitted to do. You didn't whine and you did my little drudgeries well
and patiently, as though they were the big things you would have done--"

"You don't understand. I did whine--"

"I never heard you. Miss Summers, we owe David an apology. We were
sorry for him!"

"Not now," she said.

"No, not now. David, how long will it take you to finish your new
plans?"

"But I'm not going to prepare plans. A few sketches for my own
amusement--that's all."

"I happen to know that St. Mark's is about to build."

"I am not interested, Mr. Radbourne."

"But I am. As a member of St. Mark's and as your friend, I am deeply
interested. How long will it take, David?"

David only shook his head.

"Man," cried Jonathan, "will you let one reverse--"

"Mr. Radbourne, I beg of you, don't urge that. It's all behind me.
I'm not fitted for the work as you think--drawing pretty sketches isn't
all of it. I--a man told me once, I haven't the punch. I don't know
how to meet competition. And it cost me something--it wasn't easy--to
get settled in other work. I don't want to get unsettled again, to
face another disappointment. I--"

David stopped. And Esther, watching him too closely to be conscious of
her own heart's eccentric behavior, saw in his eyes the hurt which
disappointment had left, and philosophy, even a very sound philosophy
as formulated by a lame duckling, had not yet fully healed. And she
saw indecision there, a longing that she understood, and a fear--

Of its own accord her hand went toward him in a quick pleading little
gesture. "You must!" she said softly. "Please!" . . .

Jonathan had left, beaming with joy, violin under one arm, a roll of
sketches under the other. They stood on the porch in an intimate
silence they saw no reason to break. A young half moon was sailing
over the city, dodging in and out among lazy white cloudlets. David
watched it and wondered if he and his friends had not been more than a
little foolish. He shrank from the thought of another defeat. He
shrank even from the thought of a victory; for