James. He sat down beside a window and stared out blankly. The thought
came to him, how many avowals of love and deathless devotion such a
woman must have listened to. Her manner of receiving his made him think
that there had been many. "It is quite proper," he thought to himself.
"A woman like that is born to be worshiped." Then he thought of what she
had told him, and a sort of rage filled his heart. He recognized the
fact that she had been right in her estimation of the worship of a young
man. He is always trying to turn his idol into clay.

The door opened and Clemency entered, but he did not notice it. She came
and sat down in front of him, and looked angrily at him, then for the
first time he saw her. He rose. "I beg your pardon, I did not hear you
come in," he said.

"Sit down again," said Clemency pettishly. "Don't be silly. I am used
to having young men not see anybody but my mother when she comes into a
room, and it is quite right, too. I don't think there ever was a woman
so beautiful as she, do you?"

"No, I don't," replied James.

Clemency eyed him keenly. Then she blushed at the surmise which came to
her, and James also blushed at the knowledge of the surmise. "You can't
be much older than I am. I am twenty-three," said Clemency after a
while. Then the red suffused her very throat.

"I am twenty-three, too," said James. Then he added bluntly, for he
began to be angry, "A man can think a woman the most beautiful he ever
saw without--"