truth, I much prefer to sit next to you and butter toast."

This was depressing and puzzling to Selma; but after the consumption of
the rabbit and the oysters there was some improvement in the general
tone of the conversation. Yet, not so far as she was concerned. Mr.
Dennison neglected to confide to her the secrets of his prison house,
and Dr. Page ruthlessly refused to discuss medicine, philosophy, or the
Japanese. But here and there allusion was made by one or another of the
company to something which had been done in the world of letters, or
art, or music, which possessed merit or deserved discouragement. What
was said was uttered simply, often trenchantly and lightly, but never as
a dogma, or with the solemnity which Mrs. Earle had been wont to impart
to her opinions. Just as the party was about to break up, Dr. Page
approached Selma and offered her his hand. "It is a great pleasure to me
to have met you," he said, looking into her face with his honest eyes.
"A good wife was just what Wilbur needed to insure him happiness and a
fine career. His friends have great confidence in his ability, and we
intrust him to you in the belief that the world will hear from him--and
I, for one, shall be very grateful to you."

He spoke now with evident feeling, and his manner suggested the desire
to be her friend. Selma admired his large physique and felt the
attraction of his searching gaze.

"Perhaps he did need a wife," she answered with an attempt at the
sprightliness which he had laid aside. "I shall try not to let him be
too indifferent to practical considerations."