new story. His days, therefore, passed without incident, but not without
pleasure. For whatever annoyances the great city may have usually, it
is in the dull season--that is, the season of its summer out-of-doors
animation--a most attractive and, even stimulating place for the man who
has an absorbing pursuit, say a work in creative fiction. Undisturbed by
social claims or public interests, the very noise and whirl of the
gay metropolis seem to hem him in and protect the world of his own
imagination.

The first disturbing event in this serenity was the report of the Mavick
ball, already referred to, and the interpretation put upon it by the
newspapers. In this light his plans seemed the merest moonshine. What
became of his fallacious hope of waiting when events were driving on at
this rate? What chance had he in such a social current? Would Evelyn be
strong enough to stem it and to wait also? And to wait for what? For the
indefinite and improbable event of a poor author, hardly yet recognized
as an author, coming into position, into an income (for that was the
weak point in his aspirations) that would not be laughed at by the
millionaire. When he coolly considered it, was it reasonable to expect
that Mr. and Mrs. Mavick would ever permit Evelyn to throw away the
brilliant opportunity for their daughter which was to be the crowning
end of their social ambition? The mere statement of the proposition was
enough to overwhelm him.

That this would be the opinion of the world he could not doubt. He
felt very much alone. It was not, however, in any resolve to make a
confidante of Celia, but in an absolute need of companionship, that he
went to see if she had returned. That he had any personal interest in
this ball he did not intend to let Celia know, but talk with somebody he
must. Of his deep affection for this friend of his boyhood, there was no
doubt, nor of his knowledge of her devotion to his interests. Why, then,
was he reserved with her upon the absorbing interest of his life?

Celia had returned, before the opening of the medical college, full of a
new idea. This was nothing new in her restless nature; but if Philip
had not been blinded by the common selfishness of his sex, he might
have seen in the gladness of her welcome of him something more than mere
sisterly affection.

"Are you real glad to see me, Phil? I thought you might be lonesome by
this time in the deserted city."

"I was, horribly." He was still hold