d thing, and the laundry up
there is one of them. And that's why I'm going to sea one more voyage.
It will be my last, I think, for when I come back, I shall break into the
magazines. I am certain of it."

She was silent, unsympathetic, and he watched her moodily, realizing how
impossible it was for her to understand what he had been through.

"Some day I shall write it up--'The Degradation of Toil' or the
'Psychology of Drink in the Working-class,' or something like that for a
title."

Never, since the first meeting, had they seemed so far apart as that day.
His confession, told in frankness, with the spirit of revolt behind, had
repelled her. But she was more shocked by the repulsion itself than by
the cause of it. It pointed out to her how near she had drawn to him,
and once accepted, it paved the way for greater intimacy. Pity, too, was
aroused, and innocent, idealistic thoughts of reform. She would save
this raw young man who had come so far. She would save him from the
curse of his early environment, and she would save him from himself in
spite of himself. And all this affected her as a very noble state of
consciousness; nor did she dream that behind it and underlying it were
the jealousy and desire of love.

They rode on their wheels much in the delightful fall weather, and out in
the hills they read poetry aloud, now one and now the other, noble,
uplifting poetry that turned one's thoughts to higher things.
Renunciation, sacrifice, patience, industry, and high endeavor were the
principles she thus indirectly preached--such abstractions being
objectified in her mind by her father, and Mr. Butler, and by Andrew
Carnegie, who, from a poor immigrant boy had arisen to be the book-giver
of the world. All of which was appreciated and enjoyed by Martin. He
followed her mental processes more clearly now, and her soul was no
longer the sealed wonder it had been. He was on terms of intellectual
equality with her. But the points of disagreement did not affect his
love. His love was more ardent than ever, for he loved her for what she
was, and even her physical frailty was an added charm in his eyes. He
read of sickly Elizabeth Barrett, who for years had not placed her feet
upon the ground, until that day of flame when she eloped with Browning
and stood upright, upon the earth, under the open sky; and what Browning
had done for her, Martin decided he could do for Ruth. But first, she
must love him. The re