so," he answered.

Suddenly the air with which she asked attracted his attention.

"You're not still thinking about being an actress, are you?" he asked.

"No," she answered, "I was just wondering."

Without being clear, there was something in the thought which he
objected to. He did not believe any more, after three years of
observation, that Carrie would ever do anything great in that line.
She seemed too simple, too yielding. His idea of the art was that it
involved something more pompous. If she tried to get on the stage she
would fall into the hands of some cheap manager and become like the rest
of them. He had a good idea of what he meant by THEM. Carrie was pretty.
She would get along all right, but where would he be?

"I'd get that idea out of my head, if I were you. It's a lot more
difficult than you think."

Carrie felt this to contain, in some way, an aspersion upon her ability.

"You said I did real well in Chicago," she rejoined.

"You did," he answered, seeing that he was arousing opposition, "but
Chicago isn't New York, by a big jump."

Carrie did not answer this at all. It hurt her.

"The stage," he went on, "is all right if you can be one of the big
guns, but there's nothing to the rest of it. It takes a long while to
get up."

"Oh, I don't know," said Carrie, slightly aroused.

In a flash, he thought he foresaw the result of this thing. Now, when
the worst of his situation was approaching, she would get on the stage
in some cheap way and forsake him. Strangely, he had not conceived well
of her mental ability. That was because he did not understand the nature
of emotional greatness. He had never learned that a person might be
emotionally--instead of intellectually--great. Avery Hall was too far
away for him to look back and sharply remember. He had lived with this
woman too long.

"Well, I do," he answered. "If I were you I wouldn't think of it. It's
not much of a profession for a woman."

"It's better than going hungry," said Carrie. "If you don't want me to
do that, why don't you get work yourself?"

There was no answer ready for this. He had got used to the suggestion.

"Oh, let up," he answered.

The result of this was that she secretly resolved to try. It didn't
matter about him. She was not going to be dragged into poverty and
something worse to suit him. She could act. She could get something
and then work up. What would he say then? She pictured herself already
appearing in