But there were one or two Americans in the house, and they came home a few months later with their account of Raymond and his ways. It was needed; for the three or four letters that he had printed in one of our newspapers contained little beyond descriptions of set sights--to think we should have continued to welcome that sort of thing so long! Well, these people reported him as conscientiously busy, for his hour each day, with grammar and dictionary. He was also getting his hand in painting; and he had "taken on" musical composition, even to instrumentation. "Too many irons!" commented my lively young informant. "And I think I should get my painting in Paris and my music in Germany." She also said that Raymond had next to no social life--he showed hardly the slightest desire to make acquaintances. "An old Frenchman came to the place for a few days," she continued; "and as he was leaving he said your friend was living in an ivory tower--the windows few, the door narrow, and the key thrown away. 'Ivory tower'--do you understand what that means?" "No," I said. But of course I understand now. III As a consequence of my call at Johnny McComas's office (or as a probable consequence), I received, some six months later, an invitation to his wedding. You will expect to hear that I was present, and perhaps acted as usher, or even as best man. Nothing of the sort was the case, however; I was absent at the time in the East. Nor are you to imagine me as continually following, at close range, the vicissitudes, major and minor, which made up his life, or made up Raymond's. An exact, perpetual attendance of fifty years is completely out of the question. Don't expect it. Johnny married, I was told, a young woman living in his own suburb, the daughter of a manufacturer of some means. I met him about two months after his great step. He was still full of the new life, and full of the new wife. "She's fine!" he declared. "Not too fine, but fine enough for me." He cocked his hat to one side. "Do you know, I talk to her just as I would to a man." "Johnny!" I began, almost gasping. "Well, what's wrong? Ever said anything much out of the way to you? Ever heard me say anything to any other fellow?" "Why, no...." I was obliged to acknowledge. "Then why the row? It's all easy as an old shoe. _She_ likes it." "I know. But--talking with a woman ... It isn't quite like...." "Don't make any mistake. Just have the big things right, and they'll overlook lots of the little ones." "H'm," I said doubtfully. "I supposed it was just the other way. Lay a lot of stress on certain little things, and larger shortcomings won't bother them. Bring her a bunch of flowers to-day, and she'll help you deed away the house and lot to-morrow." "Fudge!" said Johnny. "I mean the really big things. There's only two. Ground to stand on and air to breathe." "That is to say...?"