ed coming.

"I don't think I would object to coming under certain conditions," he
replied.

"And what are those conditions?"

"Well, I would rather hear what you have to suggest, Mr. Kalvin. I
really am not sure that I want to leave where I am. I'm doing pretty
well as it is."

"Well, you seem a rather likely young man to me," said Mr. Kalvin. "You
have certain qualities which I think I need. I'll say eight thousand for
this year, and if everything is satisfactory one year from this time
I'll make it ten. After that we'll let the future take care of itself."

"Eight thousand! Ten next year!" thought Eugene. The title of
advertising manager of a great publication! This was certainly a step
forward!

"Well, that isn't so bad," he said, after a moment's apparent
reflection. "I'd be willing to take that, I think."

"I thought you would," said Mr. Kalvin, with a dry smile. "Well, you and
Mr. Fredericks can arrange the rest of the details. Let me wish you good
luck," and he extended his hand cordially.

Eugene took it.

It did not seem as he rode back in the machine with Mr. Fredericks to
the latter's house--for he was invited to stay for the night--that it
could really be true. Eight thousand a year! Was he eventually going to
become a great business man instead of an artist? He could scarcely
flatter himself that this was true, but the drift was strange. Eight
thousand this year! Ten the next if he made good; twelve, fifteen,
eighteen---- He had heard of such salaries in the advertising field
alone, and how much more would his investments bring him. He foresaw an
apartment on Riverside Drive in New York, a house in the country
perhaps, for he fancied he would not always want to live in the city. An
automobile of his own, perhaps; a grand piano for Angela; Sheraton or
Chippendale furniture; friends, fame--what artist's career could compare
to this? Did any artist he knew enjoy what he was enjoying now, even?
Why should he worry about being an artist? Did they ever get anywhere?
Would the approval of posterity let him ride in an automobile now? He
smiled as he recalled Dula's talk about class superiority--the
distinction of being an artist, even though poor. Poverty be hanged!
Posterity could go to the devil! He wanted to live now--not in the
approval of posterity.

CHAPTER XXXVII

The best positions are not always free from the most disturbing
difficulties, for great responsibility goes with great oppo