how rarely generosity survived in the woman who leads the soft and idle
life.

"How long can we keep on as we're living now--if there's nothing, or
little, coming in?"

"I don't know," confessed she. She was as poor at finance as he, and had
certainly not been improved by his habit of giving her whatever she
happened to think was necessary. "I can't say. Perhaps a few months--I
don't know--Not long, I'm afraid."

"Six months?"

"Oh, no. You see--the fact is--I've been rather careless about the
bills. You're so generous, Fred--and one is so busy in New York. I
guess we owe a good deal--here and there and yonder. And--the last few
days some of the tradespeople have been pressing for payment."

"You see!" exclaimed he. "The report is going round that I'm ruined and
done for. I've simply got to make good. If you can't keep up a front,
shut up the house and go abroad. You can stay till I've got my foot back
on its neck."

She believed in him, at bottom. She could not conceive how appearances
and her forebodings could be true. Such strength as his could not be
overwhelmed thus suddenly. And by so slight a thing!--by an unsatisfied
passion for a woman, and an insignificant woman, at that. For, like all
women, like all the world for that matter, she measured a passion by the
woman who was the object of it, instead of by the man who fabricated it.
"Yes--I'll go abroad," said she, hopefully.

"Quietly arrange for a long stay," he advised. "I _hope_ it won't be long.
But I never plan on hope."

Thus, with his sister and Fitzhugh out of the way and the heaviest of
his burdens of expense greatly lightened, he set about rehabitating
himself. He took an office, waited for clients. And clients
came--excellent clients. Came and precipitately left him.

There were two reasons for it. The first--the one most often heard--was
the story going round that he had been, and probably still was, out of
his mind. No deadlier or crueler weapon can be used against a man than
that same charge as to his sanity. It has been known to destroy, or
seriously maim, brilliant and able men with no trace of any of the
untrustworthy kinds of insanity. Where the man's own conduct gives color
to the report, the attack is usually mortal. And Norman had acted the
crazy man. The second reason was the hostility of Burroughs, reinforced
by all the hatreds and jealousies Norman's not too respectful way of
dealing with his fellow men had been creating through