heavy offset in the form of large and constant public eulogies
was needed to balance these annoyances, and such an offset was not
forthcoming.

West was older now, a little less ready in his enthusiasms, a shade less
pleased with the world, a thought less sure of the eternal merits of the
life of uplift. In fact he was thirty-three years old, and he had
moments, now and then, when he wondered if he were going forward as
rapidly and surely as he had a right to expect. This was the third
position he had had since he left college, and it was his general
expectation to graduate into a fourth before a great while. Semple
frequently urged him to return to the brokerage business; he had made an
unquestioned success there at any rate. As to Blaines College, he could
not be so confident. The college had opened this year with an increased
enrollment of twenty-five; and though West privately felt certain that
his successor was only reaping where he himself had sown, you could not
be certain that the low world would so see it. As for the _Post_, it was
a mere stop-gap, a momentary halting-place where he preened for a far
higher flight. There were many times that winter when West wondered if
Plonny Neal, whom he rarely or never saw, could possibly have failed to
notice how prominently he was in line.

But these doubts and dissatisfactions left little mark upon the handsome
face and buoyant manner. Changes in West, if there were any, were of the
slightest. Certainly his best friends, like those two charming young
women, Miss Weyland and Miss Avery, found him as delightful as ever.

In these days, West's mother desired him to marry. After the cunning
habit of women, she put the thought before him daily, under many an
alluring guise, by a thousand engaging approaches. West himself warmed
to the idea. He had drunk freely of the pleasures of single blessedness,
under the most favorable conditions; was now becoming somewhat jaded
with them; and looked with approval upon the prospect of a little nest,
or indeed one not so little, duly equipped with the usual faithful
helpmeet who should share his sorrows, joys, etc. The nest he could
feather decently enough himself; the sole problem, a critical one in its
way, was to decide upon the helpmeet. West was neither college boy nor
sailor. His heart was no harem of beautiful faces. Long since, he had
faced the knowledge that there were but two girls in the world for him.
Since, however, the chu