I have a great many things to do," she informed him.

"You have dinner?"

"Yes."

"Sometimes I have dinner too," he nodded. "Then what do you do?"

"I have a great many things to do," she repeated.

"I don't have anything to do after dinner," he said. "I just wander
around until it's time to go to bed."

"That's a waste of time."

"I know it. It's just killing time until the next day."

She appeared interested.

"You have many friends?"

"They are all in London and Paris," he answered.

"You have relatives."

"No," he answered. "You see, I live all alone. Dad left me a house,
but--well, he didn't leave any one in it except the servants."

"You live in a house all by yourself?"

He nodded.

Mr. Pendleton lived in a house! That was a wonderful thing to her. She
had almost forgotten that any one lived in whole houses any more. She
was eager to hear more. So, when the next train came along she stepped
into it, and he followed, although she had not intended to allow
this.

"I wish you would tell me about your house," she said wistfully.

So, on the way uptown, he tried to describe it to her. He told her
where it was, and that quite took away her breath; and how his father
had bought it; and how many rooms there were; and how it was
furnished; and, finally, how he came to be living in it himself on a
salary of twenty-five dollars a week. As she listened her eyes grew
round and full.

"My, but you're lucky!" she exclaimed. "I should think you'd want to
spend there every minute you could get."

"Why?" he asked in surprise.

"Just because it's your house," she answered. "Just because it's all
your own."

"I don't see it," he answered.

"And what do _you_ want of ten thousand a year?" she demanded. "You
can live like a king on what you're drawing now."

"You don't mean that?" he asked.

"I don't mean you ought to give up trying for the big jobs," she said
quickly. "You ought to try all the harder for those, because that's
all that's left for you to try for. With everything else provided, you
ought to make a name for yourself. Why, you're free to work for
nothing else."

"On twenty-five dollars a week?"

"And a house that's all your own. With a roof over your head no one
can take away, and heat and light--why, it's a fortune and your
twenty-five so much extra."

"Well, I have to eat," he observed.

"Yes, you have to eat."

"And wear clothes."

She was doing that and paying her rent out of