mad to mention it.

"The dear old governor's mind is gold-bound," said Peter, sadly, after
we came away from luncheon with the judge down in Wall Street. "Why
should I grub filthy money when he has extracted the bulk of it that he
has? I must go forward and he must realize that he should urge me on up.
I ought not to be tied down to unimportant material things. I must not
be. You of all people understand me and my ambitions, Betty." As he said
it he leaned toward me across the tea-table at the Astor, where we had
dropped exhaustedly down to finish the discussion on life which the
judge's practical tirade had evoked.

"But then, Peter, you know it was a very great thing Judge Vandyne
showed his bank how to do about that international war loan. In England
and Scotland they speak of him with bated breath. It was so brilliant
that it saved awful complications for Belgium."

"Oh, he's the greatest ever--in all material ways," answered Peter, with
hasty loyalty and some pride, "but I was speaking of those higher
things, Betty, of the spirit. The things over which your soul and mine
seem to draw near to each other. Betty, the second act of 'The
Emergence' is almost finished, and Farrington is going to read it
himself when I have it ready. He told me so at the club just yesterday.
You know he awarded my junior prize for the 'Idyl.' Think of
it--_Farrington_!" And Peter leaned forward and took my hand.

"Oh, Peter, I am so glad!" I said, with a catch of joy in my breath, but
I drew away my hand. I knew I liked Peter in many wonderful ways, but in
some others I was doubtful. I had only known Peter the three years I've
been away from Hayesboro, being finished in the North, and even if I did