hink it. After all, this matter
of giving and taking should be very simple; don't you see? The
surcharged cloud pours its electricity into the empty one, and both are
equalized. But has the full cloud any more to boast of than the other?"

He smiled.

"I think I never saw any one so ingenious in pleas for the sharing
system. Possibly, if you were the empty cloud you would feel
differently."

"I hope not. I think it takes a larger nature to receive nobly than to
give nobly."

"So do I. It takes a nature so great few men have attained to it," he
said quickly. "I acknowledge that I have not."

"'A fault confessed is half redressed'," murmured Joyce.

"_Is_ pride a fault?" he asked quickly.

"Isn't it? According to the Bible it's a large one, almost a crime." Her
laughing eyes sought his, and she continued, "Now, I haven't a particle
of pride. I've eaten one peach and I want another. Moreover, I want it
pared and quartered."

They were almost as isolated in their little corner as if in a nook of
the woods. The crowds surged to and fro, and its units were "but as
trees walking" to their oblivious eyes. Joyce was discovering new depths
in George Dalton's nature. He was a thinker, and as his thinking had
grown out of contact with men, rather than from grubbing in books, it
was often of a unique and picturesque kind.

He saw the ludicrous in everything, and, with all his practicality,
there was a strain of romance so fresh and young mingled with it, that
it made a boy of him whenever he was dominated by it. He was the boy
to-night, and as he leaned towards Joyce, talking in an undertone, his
eye bright, his laughter frequent, his manner full of respectful
friendliness, she forgot that he had ever seemed hard, cold, and given
over to business alone.

At length the call of a train at some distant doorway startled Joyce,
and she glanced around.

"Isn't that our train he's calling? It can't be! But I'm afraid it is."

Each consulted a watch, and looked guiltily at the other.

"It has been very short," said Joyce involuntarily.

"And very sweet!" added George below his breath. "Well, come on, little
parcels. One-two-three-four--have I got them all? Why--what is it?"

The girl's face had a piteous look as it was turned to his.

"I had forgotten it all--the Hapgoods, Lozcoski, poor Nate! We were as
easy as if there were no trouble anywhere. It all rushed over me once
more, and I felt, for the instant, that I could