difficulty. It was one of the first questions I
put to myself--what about the title? The thing is to get a good
striking one, and that's by no means an easy task. The title of a book
is almost as important as its contents, and, confound it all, my dear
John, I'm blessed if it doesn't take nearly as long to manufacture.
I've been cudgelling my brains for the last three months, and I must
confess my mind is an absolute blank so far."

"Why not call it 'Plain Thoughts of a Practical Thinker?'" suggested
Morgan. "And perhaps you might add a sub-title--'An attempt to
investigate some questions of primary importance that are usually
shelved.' How does that strike you?"

"Splendid!" exclaimed Archibald, enthusiastically. "'Plain Thoughts of
a Practical Thinker'--the very thing. 'An attempt to investigate some
questions of primary importance that are usually shelved.' Admirable!
'Practical Thinker!' That is just the idea I want to convey to the
world. I am not one of your mere dreamers, your theorists, your college
professors. I speak as one who has had a large experience of men and
affairs, as one who has for years administered the fortunes of a great
house. And yet I have sufficient of the thinker and the idealist in me
to have begotten a son whose name will live in English letters. It will,
Morgan, I tell you. You are a little bit misunderstood now, but what
great man has ever escaped misunderstanding? I expect to be misunderstood,
but if they think I am to be howled down--'Plain Thoughts of a Practical
Thinker!' A perfect inspiration! Suppose we join the ladies. I want to
tell Kate about it."

CHAPTER VI.

While Archibald unfolded his literary scheme to Mrs. Medhurst, Diana
mimicking his enthusiastic gestures at a safe distance, Morgan and
Margaret sat apart in that region of the drawing-room which lay
nearest the door. She had been telling him about some parties she had
gone to, and he, terribly jealous of the men who had danced with her,
made pretence to rally her about them. She, however, remained quite
calm, admitting cheerfully she _had_ a good many admirers, who filled
her programme, and whom it was always pleasant to meet. Then they were
both silent and looked at each other.

"Once upon a time," said Margaret, deciding at length to speak her
mind; "_you_ used to be one of those who wrote on my programme. Now
you never appear anywhere. I suppose you are afraid you might have to
talk to me a little."

"