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 Selma; sometimes
as a sheer round of exercise in company, sometimes to visit a
print-shop, exhibition of pictures, book-store, or other attraction of
the hour. But the evening was for him the ideal portion of the day;
when, after dinner was done, they made themselves comfortable in the new
library, their living room, and it became his privilege to read aloud to
her or to compare ideas with her regarding books and pictures and what
was going on in the world. It had been a dream of Littleton's that some
day he would re-read consecutively the British poets, and as soon as the
furniture was all in place and the questions of choice of rugs and
chairs and pictures had been settled by purchase, he proposed it as a
definite occupation whenever they had nothing else in view. It delighted
him that Selma received this suggestion with enthusiasm. Accordingly,
they devoted their spare evenings to the undertaking, reading aloud in
turn. Littleton's enunciation was clear and intelligent, and as a happy