ising young men what to do."

XVIII

Upon the recollection of this dinner Philip maintained his hope and
courage for a long time. The day after it, New York seemed more
brilliant to him than it had ever been. In the afternoon he rode down to
the Battery. It was a mild winter day, with a haze in the atmosphere
that softened all outlines and gave an enchanting appearance to the
harbor shores. The water was silvery, and he watched a long time the
craft plying on it--the businesslike ferry-boats, the spiteful tugs, the
great ocean steamers, boldly pushing out upon the Atlantic through the
Narrows or cautiously drawing in as if weary with the buffeting of the
waves. The scene kindled in him a vigorous sense of life, of prosperity,
of longing for the activity of the great world.

Clearly he must do something and not be moping in indecision.
Uncertainty is harder to bear than disaster itself. When he thought of
Evelyn, and he always thought of her, it seemed cowardly to hesitate.
Celia, after her first outburst of enthusiasm, had returned to her
cautious advice. The law was much surer. Literature was a mere chance.
Why not be content with his little success and buckle down to his
profession? Perhaps by-and-by he would have leisure to indulge his
inclination. The advice seemed sound.

But there was Evelyn, with her innocent question.

"Would the law pay you?" Evelyn? Would he be more likely to win her by
obeying the advice of Celia, or by trusting to Evelyn's inexperienced
discernment? Indeed, what chance was there to win her at all? What had
he to offer her?

His spirits invariably fell when he thought of submitting his pretensions
to the great man of Wall Street or to his worldly wife. Already it was
the gossip of the clubs that Lord Montague was a frequent visitor at the
Mavicks', that he was often seen in their box at the opera, and that Mrs.
Mavick had said to Bob Shafter that it was a scandal to talk of Lord
Montague as a fortune-hunter. He was a most kind-hearted, domestic man.
She should not join in the newspaper talk about him. He belonged to an
old English family, and she should be civil to him. Generally she did
not fancy Englishmen, and this one she liked neither better nor worse
because he had a title. And when you came to that, why shouldn't any
American girl marry her equal?

As to Montague, he was her friend, and she knew that he had not the least
intention at present of marrying anybody. And then