stic temperament, I am so ghastly religious. At any
rate, I have not seen him since, and have not answered his notes. Now,
don't weep over me, Carol, and think my young affections were trifled
with. They weren't--because they didn't have time. But I am not
taking any chances.

"Henceforth I get my sentiment second hand.

"The girl at our table, Emily Jarvis, who is a spherist, attributes all
the good fortune that has come to you and David to the fact that at
heart you are in harmony with the spheres. You don't know what a
spherist is, and neither do I. But it includes a lot of musical terms,
and metaphors, and is something like Christian Science and New Thought,
only more so. Spherists believe in a life of harmony, and somehow or
other they get the spheres back of it, and believe in immaterial
matter, and that all physical manifestations are negative, and the only
positive, or affirmative, is 'harmony.'

"Emily is very, very pretty, and that sort of excuses her for digging
into the intricacies of spheral harmonies. Even such unmitigated
nonsense as sphere control, spirit harmony, and mental submission,
assumes a semblance of dignity when expounded by her cherry-red lips.
She speaks vacuously of being under world-dominance, and has absolutely
no physical consciousness. She says so herself. If she ignores her
tempting curves and matchless softness, she is the only one in the
house who does. In fact, it is only the attraction of her very
physical being, which she denies, that lends a species of sense to her
harmonious converse. She and I are great friends. She says I am a
harmonizer on the inside.

"She is engaged to a man across the hall, Rodney Carter. She has the
room next to mine. His voice is deep and carrying, hers is clear and
ringing, and the walls are thin. So I have benefited by most of their
courtship. But the course of true love, you know. She has tried
spiritually and harmoniously to convert him to immaterialism, but
Rodney is very conscious of his physical, muscular, material being, and
he hoots at her derisively, but tenderly.

"'Oh, cut it out, Emily,' he said, one evening. 'We can only afford
one spirit in the family. One of us has got to earn a living.
Spirits, it seems, require plenty of steak and potatoes to keep them in
harmony. I could not conscientiously lead you to the altar, even a
spheral altar, if I were not prepared to pay house rent and coal bills.
One's enough, you c