"Love beareth all things, believeth all things, hopeth all things,
endureth all things."

Love has become prudent. Love has whispered in David Lockwin's ear
that while it might be brave to knock at the door of one's own home, it
would be rash to present one's self to Esther Lockwin, on Prairie
avenue--Esther Lockwin, worth five millions!

Yet this lover, in order to bear, to believe, to hope and to endure,
must enter the charmed circle of her daily life. He haunts the
vicinity, he grows fertile in his plans. He discovers an admirable
method of coming in correspondence with the Prairie avenue mansion.

Dr. Floddin has recently died, and a new proprietor is in possession of
the drug store. It is a matter of a week's time to install David
Lockwin. It could have been done in a minute, but a week's time seemed
more in order and pleased the seller. You look in and you see a square
stove. Rising behind it you see a white prescription counter, with
bottles of blue copper water at each corner. Rising still higher
behind is a partition. Peer to the right and you may see a curtain,
drawn aside. A little room contains a bed, an Argand lamp, a table
with a small clock, druggist's books and the revised New Testament.

You may see David Lockwin, almost any day, sitting near and under that
curtain; his clothes are strangely of the color of the drapery; his
legs are stretched out one ankle over the other; his hands are deep in
pockets; his head is far down on his breast. Or you may see him
washing his windows. He keeps the cleanest windows on lower State
street.