“All these looking-glasses keep me tangled. I seem to be going towards myself, from myself, beside myself, but I have been fortunate a part of the time. Two young men on the train gave me addresses of nice places to board when they found that I was alone and a stranger to the city.” Instinctively Glenn frowned. “Have you got them?” “I saved them to show you.” Taking them from her purse, she handed him the cards. “You don’t want them,” he said, crushing the cards in his hand. “Did they ask permission to call?” “One did. He wanted to come with me from the station. I didn’t care to be bothered when I was thinking of seeing you. My! how I dreaded to see you, though I believe if I hadn’t very soon I’d have started back South,” she said in her effusive way. “I was afraid the change I’d find in you would be disappointing.” “Was it?” he asked quickly. “Yes, because it is for the better. I didn’t want to care as I used to in the old days.” She was still childish enough to be honest. “Why, did you find me unworthy?” “I suppose you were worthy enough, but I have learned it is not well to let one’s affection wrap their tendrils too close about another; it hurts so when they are snapped.” “There is no reason for them to be snapped,” he argued. “The joy of clinging should make them strong enough to wrap and unwrap, leaving its sweet effect.” As he was leaving, “Trust men for little and your instinct for a good deal,” he said. His visit had made him all the more determined. A profound passion can be displaced only by one greater. He had had no experience in guiding people, but he had a desperate faith in his own way of reasoning. CHAPTER VII. GLENN ANDREWS took Esther with him to the concert. It was a great violinist’s last appearance for the season. She was happily excited, unconsciously holding Glenn by the sleeve. The glitter and glory of this wonderful, new world was dazzling. The violinist, with his long hair and big face of rugged strength, enchained her the moment the music commenced. With the intensity of her growing enthusiasm, she gripped Glenn’s arm. He was repeatedly recalled. “I expect one day to see you sway them like that,” he whispered, as the curtain went down for the fourth time. “Don’t! it is impossible,” she said, sighing. “I am just beginning to feel that my teeth are not strong enough.” “There was a time when his were not, but he wouldn’t let go,” Glenn said with emphasis. Tears stood in her eyes. “Don’t do that, I thought it would inspire you to see such result, fulfillment; I believe it’s going to depress you.” She shook her head. “I rejoice with him, I’m glad to see him win; but three long years before you are sure of anything--even failure--is hard to look forward to.” “Did your teacher say it would take you that long?” “Yes, but I had thought that I would double it; take twice the lessons and practice. After all, I may fail in the end.”