Richard made a pause here, and looked at his wife as if he expected her
to correct him. But Ethel was plainly satisfied with his statement, and
he therefore continued.

"I think it is ideal when a girl is ready to do so much as that for a
man. But I should not think it ideal in a man to allow the girl he loved
to do it for him. Nor did I then know anything about the lands in
Michigan--though this would have made no difference. Ethel had been
accustomed to a house several stories high, with hot and cold water in
most of them, and somebody to answer the door-bell."

"The door-bell!" exclaimed Ethel. "I could have gone without hearing
that."

"Yes, Ethel, only to hear the welkin ring would have been enough for you.
I know that you are sincere in thinking so. And the ringing welkin is all
we should have heard in Michigan. But the more truly a man loves a girl,
the less can he bear taking her from an easy to a hard life. I am sure
that all the men here agree with me."

There was a murmur and a nod from the men, and also from Mrs. Davenport.
But the other ladies gave no sign of assenting to Richard's proposition.

"In those days," said he, "I was what in the curt parlance of the street
is termed a six-hundred-dollar clerk. And though my ears had grown
accustomed to this appellation, I never came to feel that it completely
described me. In passing Tiffany's window twice each day (for my habit
was to walk to and from Nassau Street) I remember that seeing a
thousand-dollar clock exposed for sale caused me annoyance. Of course my