Rocky's brows came together. Mr. Doane and his father plainly didn't use that word “sentimental” in the same sense, “--it comes down to a strain of--well, something between the old Anglo-Saxonism and the modern Prussianism. It's in us--in our driving business tactics, our narrow moral intolerance, our insistence on standardizing vulgar ideas--forcing every individual into a mold--in our extraordinary glorification of the salesman. We seem to have a good deal both of the British complacency and the rough aggressiveness of the German. But the health is there--wonderfully. What America needs is beauty--not the self-conscious swarming after it of earnest and misguided suburban ladies--but a quiet sense of the thing itself. Beauty--and simplicity--and patience--and tolerance--and faith. Prosperity has for the moment wrecked faith there. Simply too much money. But you'll find health growing up everywhere. Just let yourself grow with it. You've been deeply impressed by China. But if I were you, I'd let all that take care of itself. Never mind what you may come to feel next year or ten years from now. It may be mainly China or mainly America. Just work, and let yourself grow.” At the door they clasped hands warmly. And then, finally, Rocky got to the point: “Mr. Doane--this is what I wanted to say--I saw Hui Fei this afternoon, and--” Doane was silent; but still gripped his hand, “--and we talked things all out. She knows I'm--knows I'm going back. And--this is it.... You don't mind my.... I think you ought to find time to go over there and see her. She seems puzzled about--I don't know quite how to say all this. You know how I've felt--feel.... Of course, the thing is to look the facts in the face. I hope I'm man enough to do that.” His voice was unsteady now. “I'm not the one. I never was. She was clear about it, to-day, but... I think you ought to see her. Oh, I'm sure it isn't just her father's will....” Rocky found himself, without the slightest sense of ungentleness on the part of Mr. Doane, through the door and confusedly saying his good-by before the patient clerks and the waiting crowd in the anteroom. He walked back to the hotel with a warm glow of admiration and friendship in his heart. There would be--he knew, even then--sad hours, probably bitter hours, in the long struggle to come. But this talk was going to help.