d play!

The discussion with Angela of this proposition led to some additional
uncertainty, for although she was greatly impressed with what Colfax
offered, she was afraid Eugene might be making a mistake in leaving
Kalvin. The latter had been so nice to Eugene. He had never associated
with him in any intimate way, but he and Angela had been invited to his
home on several formal occasions, and Eugene had reported that Kalvin
was constantly giving him good advice. His attitude in the office was
not critical but analytic and considerate.

"He's been mighty nice to me," Eugene said to her one morning at
breakfast; "they all have. It's a shame to leave him. And yet, now that
I look at it, I can see very plainly that there is never going to be the
field here that there will be with the United Company. They have the
publications and the book business, and the Kalvin Company hasn't and
won't have. Kalvin is too old. They're in New York, too; that's one
thing I like about it. I'd like to live in New York again. Wouldn't
you?"

"It would be fine," said Angela, who had never really cared for
Philadelphia and who saw visions of tremendous superiority in this
situation. Philadelphia had always seemed a little out of the way of
things after New York and Paris. Only Eugene's good salary and the
comforts they had experienced here had made it tolerable. "Why don't you
speak to Mr. Kalvin and tell him just what Mr. Colfax says," she asked.
"It may be that he'll offer to raise your salary so much that you'll
want to stay when he hears of this."

"No danger," replied Eugene. "He may raise it a bit, but he never can
pay me twenty-five thousand dollars a year. There isn't any reason for
paying it. It takes a corporation like the United to do it. There isn't
a man in our place gets that, unless it is Fredericks. Besides, I could
never be anything more here, or much more, than advertising manager.
Miller has that editorial job sewed up. He ought to have it, too, he's a
good man. This thing that Colfax offers lets me out into a new field. I
don't want to be an advertising manager all my days if I can help it!"

"I don't want you to be, either, Eugene," sighed Angela. "It's a shame
you can't quit entirely and take up your art work. I've always thought
that if you were to stop now and go to painting you would make a success
of it. There's nothing the matter with your nerves now. It's just a
question of whether we want to live more simply fo