ith in him that she never for an
instant suspected that there might possibly be difficulty at the
start--that any publisher could be wary of this masterpiece by an
unknown.

The Carrs had planned to remain where they were until the book was
finished, then to take the precious manuscript, and go forth to conquer
the City. Afterward, perhaps, a second honeymoon journey, for both were
sorely in need of rest and recreation.

Elaine was going with them, and Dorothy was to interview the Personage
whose private secretary she had once been, and see if that position or one
fully as desirable could not be found for her friend. Also, Elaine was to
make her home with the Carrs. "I won't let you live in a New York boarding
house," said Dorothy warmly, "as long as we've any kind of a roof over our
heads."

Dick had discovered that, as he expressed it, he must "quit fooling and
get a job." Hitherto, Mr. Chester had preferred care-free idleness to any
kind of toil, and a modest sum, carefully hoarded, represented to Dick
only freedom to do as he pleased until it gave out. Then he began to
consider work again, but as he seldom did the same kind of work twice, he
was not particularly proficient in any one line.

Still, Dick had no false ideas about labour. At college he had canvassed
for subscription books, solicited life and fire insurance, swept walks,
shovelled snow, carried out ashes, and even handled trunks for the express
company, all with the same cheerful equanimity. His small but certain
income sufficed for his tuition and other necessary expenses, but for
board at Uncle Ebeneezer's and a few small luxuries, he was obliged to
work.

Just now, unwonted ambition fired his soul. "It's funny," he mused,
"what's come over me. I never hankered to work, even in my wildest
moments, and yet I pine for it this minute--even street-sweeping would be
welcome, though that sort of thing isn't going to be much in my line from
now on. With the start uncle's given me, I can surely get along all right,
and, anyhow, I've got two hands, two feet, and one head, all good of their
kind, so there's no call to worry."

Worrying had never been among Dick's accomplishments, but he was restless,
and eager for something to do. He plunged into furniture-making with
renewed energy, inspired by the presence of Elaine, who with her book or
embroidery sat in her low rocker under the apple tree and watched him at
his work.

Quite often she read aloud, som