He could not console himself with the praises of most of the women he met, for he always fancied that they were attempting to flatter him into entanglements. When he encountered Julia, however, the mixture of egoism and humility which he sensed in her discontent intrigued his vanity. He saw that she was isolated and unhappy, and he longed for an admiration which his discrimination would not condemn. In her he anticipated a disciple of whom he need not be ashamed; but until she should be sexually disarmed he was frightened of her. * * * * * May and Paul were in the park, by the side of the lake. The water was caught in meshes of hot rays as in a web. In the sky, above the trees, the light, drawn inward from the vague horizon, glowed in a fathomless spot where the sun was sinking. The grass was uncut in the field about them and the little seeded tops floated in a red-lilac mist above the green stems. "I don't like your Aunt Julia, May!" May's mouth half smiled, uneasy. "Why not?" They sat down on a hillock and Paul began to tear up grass blades as if he wanted to hurt them. When he thought of Julia it made him feel sorry for himself, and he hated her. "She's so darn complacent and shallow." "Why, Paul, Aunt Julia's always doing things for people. She's been awfully good to you. After the way she helped you with your exams I shouldn't think you'd talk like that." May gazed at him with wide soft eyes of reproach. He picked at the grass. "Oh, I'm joking. I suppose she felt very virtuous when she helped me." "But she does lots, Paul. She's always interested in some charity work." "Pish! Charity! What does a woman like that know about life!" May was timidly silent. "Some of these days I'm going to cut loose from everything--all these smug conventions." "But where'll you go, Paul? I thought you wanted to study medicine." "Well, I'd rather give up that than stand this atmosphere. Oh, hell! What's the use!" She liked it when he said hell. It made her feel intimate with a strange thing. Afraid. "But what do you want to do, Paul?" Looking away from her, he did not answer. It soothed him to be superior to May, but he knew enough to be ashamed of such consolation. Too easy. A kid like that! "It don't matter. I've got to get away. I don't fit into the sort of life your Aunt Julia stands for. What's there here for me anyway!" He added, "Of course you're too young to bother with my troubles." He stared stubbornly at the twinkling tree tops across the lake. May was crushed by this accusation of youth. "You used to say you wanted to stay here and help radicals. Some day there'll be a revolution--" Her humility would not permit her to continue. Paul was irritated by this reminder of his inconsistency. Still he felt guilty and wanted to be kind. "Pshaw! A lot of chance for revolution in America now. You must have been listening to your Aunt Julia talk parlor socialism, child."