lity, a promise, that
had gained him a foothold and a support in the world of books and of the
making of books. And though he had declined Mr. Ault's tempting offer to
illuminate his transcontinental road with a literary torch, he none the
less was pleased with this recognition of his capacity and the value of
his name.

To say that Philip lived on hope during this summer of heat,
suspensions, and business derangement would be to allow him a too
substantial subsistence. Evelyn, indeed, seemed, at the distance of
Newport, more unattainable than ever, and the scant news he had of the
drama enacted there was a perpetual notice to him of the social gulf
that lay between them. And yet his dream was sustained by occasional
assurances from Miss McDonald of her confidence in Evelyn's belief in
him, nay, of her trust, and she even went so far as to say affection.
So he went on building castles in the air, which melted and were renewed
day after day, like the transient but unfailing splendor of the sunset.

There was a certain exaltation in this indulgence of his passion that
stimulated his creative faculties, and, while his daily tasks kept
him from being morbid, his imagination was free to play with the
construction of a new story, to which his recent experience would give a
certain solidity and a knowledge of the human struggle as it is.

He found himself observing character more closely than before, looking
for it not so much in books as in the people he met. There was Murad
Ault, for instance. How he would like to put him into a book! Of
course it would not do to copy a model, raw, like' that, but he fell to
studying his traits, trying to see the common humanity exhibited in him.
Was he a type or was he a freak? This was, however, too dangerous ground
until he knew more of life.

The week's vacation allowed him by his house was passed in Rivervale.
There, in the calmness of country life, and in the domestic atmosphere
of affection which believed in him, he was far enough removed from
the scene of the spectres of his imagination to see them in proper
perspective, and there the lines of his new venture were laid down, to
be worked out later on, he well knew, in the anxiety and the toil which
should endue the skeleton with life. Rivervale, to be sure, was haunted
by the remembrance of Evelyn; very often the familiar scenes filled him
with an intolerable longing to see again the eyes that had inspired
him, to hear the voice