on Pauline's remonstrating with him, was not at all
penitent.

"When your marriage, my dear, comes on the horizon--I don't mind how
faint a horizon--of the probable, then it will be time to discuss
matters in the practical way I suppose Mr. Hazlewood would like them to
be discussed. Moreover, in any case, I forgot that the worthy gentleman
was coming."

Pauline was anxious to make excuses for the Rector to Guy, but Guy, when
he came round next day, was only apologetic for his own father's
behavior; and he and she came to a conclusion in the end that parents
must be forgiven on account of their age.

"At the same time," Guy added, "I blame my father for his conventional
outlook. He doesn't seem able to realize the extraordinary help that you
are to my work. In fact, he doesn't realize that my work is work. He's
been teaching for so many years that now he can no longer learn
anything. Your father's behavior is reasonable. He doesn't take us quite
seriously, but he leaves the situation to our disentanglement. Well, we
shall convince him that nothing in the world is so simple as a love like
ours; but the worst of my father is that even if he were convinced he
would be more annoying than ever."

"You must make allowances, Guy. For one thing, how few people, even when
they're young, understand about love. Besides, he's anxious about your
career."

"What right has he to be anxious?" Guy burst out. "If I fail, I pay the
penalty, not he."

"But he would be so hurt if you failed," she urged.

"Pauline, if you can say that, you can imagine that I will fail. Even
you are beginning to have doubts."

"I haven't any doubts," she whispered. "I know you will be famous. And
yet I have doubts of another sort. I sometimes wonder if I shall be
enough when you are famous?"

The question she had raised launched Guy upon a sea of eloquence. He
worried no more about his father, but only protested his dependence upon
Pauline's love for everything that he would ever have accomplished.

"Yes, but I think I shall seem dull one day," she persisted, with a
shake of the head.

"No, no. How could you seem dull to me?"

"But I'm not clever...."

"Avoid that wretched word," he cried. "It can only be applied to
thieves, politicians, and lawyers. I have told you a thousand times what
you are to me, and I will not tell you again because I don't want to be
an egotist. I don't want to represent you to myself as a creature that
exists _for_ m