Was she trying to make amends, or reminding me in this subtle way of the cause of our quarrel? What I was aware of as I looked at her was an attitude, a vantage point apparently gained by contact with that mysterious outer world which thus vicariously had laid its spell on me; I was tremendously struck by the thought that to achieve this attitude meant emancipation, invulnerability against the aches and pains which otherwise our fellow-beings had the power to give us; mastery over life,--the ability to choose calmly, as from a height, what were best for one's self, untroubled by loves and hates. Untroubled by loves and hates! At that very moment, paradoxically, I loved her madly, but with a love not of the old quality, a love that demanded a vantage point of its own. Even though she had made an advance--and some elusiveness in her manner led me to doubt it I could not go to her now. I must go as a conqueror,--a conqueror in the lists she herself had chosen, where the prize is power. “Oh, I'm getting along pretty well,” I said. “At any rate, they don't complain of me.” “Somehow,” she ventured, “somehow it's hard to think of you as a business man.” I took this for a reference to the boast I had made that I would go to college. “Business isn't so bad as it might be,” I assured her. “I think a man ought to go away to college,” she declared, in what seemed another tone. “He makes friends, learns certain things,--it gives him finish. We are very provincial here.” Provincial! I did not stop to reflect how recently she must have acquired the word; it summed up precisely the self-estimate at which I had arrived. The sting went deep. Before I could think of an effective reply Nancy was being carried off by the young man from the East, who was clearly infatuated. He was not provincial. She smiled back at me brightly over his shoulder.... In that instant were fused in one resolution all the discordant elements within me of aspiration and discontent. It was not so much that I would show Nancy what I intended to do--I would show myself; and I felt a sudden elation, and accession of power that enabled me momentarily to despise the puppets with whom she danced.... From this mood I was awakened with a start to feel a hand on my shoulder, and I turned to confront her father, McAlery Willett; a gregarious, easygoing, pleasure-loving gentleman who made only a pretence of business, having inherited an ample fortune from his father, unique among his generation in our city in that he paid some attention to fashion in his dress; good living was already beginning to affect his figure. His mellow voice had a way of breaking an octave. “Don't worry, my boy,” he said. “You stick to business. These college fellows are cocks of the walk just now, but some day you'll be able to snap your fingers at all of 'em.”