y in response to my
thought.

I was led into a bright room in the back of the house. The windows
looked on the sunset. The floor was bare, except in front of the grate,
where was spread the skin of some strange animal. For the rest, there
was nothing remarkable about the apartment. An old bookcase in a corner
seemed packed to bursting with dusty volumes in antique covers, A
writing-table, littered and piled with papers, was in the middle of the
room, and there were a few easy-chairs, into one of which the Doctor
motioned me.

Excusing himself a moment, he went to the mantel, took seemed fixed on
me, but I felt that he was looking through me at something beyond.

Again he spoke. "I think that what you need is to exert your will. I can
help you to do that. You are very receptive; you have great will-power
also, but you have not cultivated that power. This is a critical time in
your life. You are becoming a man. You must use your will. I can help
you by making you see that you _can_ use your will, and that the will is
very powerful--that _your_ will is very powerful. He who has confidence
in his own will-power will exert it. I can help you to have confidence.
But I cannot exert your will for you; you must do that. To begin with, I
shall give you a very simple task. I think I can understand a little
your present attitude toward me. You are in doubt. I wish you to be in
doubt, for the moment. I wish your curiosity and desires for and against
to be so evenly balanced that you will have no difficulty in choosing
for or against. You are just in that condition. You have feared and
mistrusted me; now your fear and suspicion are leaving you, and
curiosity is balancing against indolence. I do not bid you to make an
effort to will; I leave it entirely to you to determine now whether you
will struggle against weakness or submit to it; whether you will begin
to use your sleeping will-power or else continue to accept what comes."

I rose to my feet at once.

"What is your decision?" asked the Doctor smiling--the first smile I had
ever seen on his face.

"I will be a man!" I exclaimed.

* * * * *

I became a frequent visitor at the Doctor's, and gradually learned more
and more of this remarkable man. His little daughter told me much that I
could never have guessed. She was a very serious child, perhaps of
eleven years, and not very attractive. In fact, she was ugly, but her
gravity seemed somehow