as pleased as was David himself, but while he was content to bask
in another's glory, Miss Anthony saw in his inheritance only an
incentive to achieve glory for himself.

From a hard-working salesman she had asked but little, but from
a descendant of a national hero she expected other things. She
was a determined young person, and for David she was an ambitious
young person. She found she was dissatisfied. She found she was
disappointed. The great-great-grandfather had opened up a new
horizon--had, in a way, raised the standard. She was as fond of
David as always, but his tales of past wars and battles, his
accounts of present banquets at which he sat shoulder to shoulder
with men of whom even Burdett and Sons spoke with awe, touched
her imagination.

"You shouldn't be content to just wear a button," she urged. "If
you're a Son of Washington, you ought to act like one."

"I know I'm not worthy of you," David sighed.

"I don't mean that, and you know I don't," Emily replied
indignantly. "It has nothing to do with me! I want you to be
worthy of yourself, of your grandpa Hiram!"

"But HOW?" complained David. "What chance has a twenty-five
dollar a week clerk--"

It was a year before the Spanish-American War, while the patriots
of Cuba were fighting the mother country for their independence.