ch
other.

I am sure I did not stay more than fifteen minutes, and all that I
recall of our conversation was that Dr. Hale asked me a great many
questions about Russia, in a manner that made me feel that I was an
authority on the subject; and with his great hand in good-bye he gave
me a bit of homely advice, namely, that I should never study before
breakfast!

That was all, but for the rest of the day I moved against a background
of grandeur. There was a noble ring to Virgil that day that even my
teacher's firm translation had never brought out before. Obscure
points in the history lesson were clear to me alone, of the thirty
girls in the class. And it happened that the tulips in Copley Square
opened that day, and shone in the sun like lighted lamps.

Any one could be happy a year on Dover Street, after spending half an
hour on Highland Street. I enjoyed so many half-hours in the great
man's house that I do not know how to convey the sense of my
remembered happiness. My friend used to keep me in conversation a few
minutes, in the famous study that was fit to have been preserved as a
shrine; after which he sent me to roam about the house, and explore
his library, and take away what books I pleased. Who would feel
cramped in a tenement, with such royal privileges as these?

Once I brought Dr. Hale a present, a copy of a story of mine that had
been printed in a journal; and from his manner of accepting it you
might have thought that I was a princess dispensing gifts from a
throne. I wish I had asked him, that last time I talked with him, how
it was that he who was so modest made those who walked with him so
great.

Modest as the man was the house in which he lived. A gray old house of
a style that New England no longer builds, with a pillared porch
curtained by vines, set back in the yard behind the old trees.
Whatever cherished flowers glowed in the garden behind the house, the
common daisy was encouraged to bloom in front. And was there sun or
snow on the ground, the most timid hand could open the gate, the most
humble visitor was sure of a welcome. Out of that modest house the
troubled came comforted, the fallen came uplifted, the noble came
inspired.

My explorations of Dr. Hale's house might not have brought me to the
gables, but for my friend's daughter, the artist, who had a studio at
the top of the house. She asked me one day if I would sit for a
portrait, and I consented with the greatest alacrity. It wou