His aspirations for art, if not fine, were sufficiently earnest and sincere. He had always thought of himself as luckily fortuned, so that he could devote himself to getting real distinction in his profession. So he had planned his life in Paris. Now, brought back from that pleasant world into this stern city, with all its striving, apparently, centred upon the one business of making money, then deprived by what seemed to him a harsh and unfair freak of fortune of all his pleasant expectations, he was trying to read the face of Destiny. And there he seemed to find written what this gritty broker had harshly expressed. There was, to be sure, another road to fortune, which had not been mentioned, and that was to make a rich marriage. This road had been followed with signal success by a number of his acquaintances: it was one of the well-recognized methods of attaining that point of vantage which he had hoped to inherit,--to win one of the daughters of wealth! And since his return from Europe the young architect had had his opportunities in the society where he had been welcomed. But apart from his growing love for Helen Spellman, he was too sturdy a man to like this easy method of advancement. He turned from the idea with instinctive repugnance, and an honest feeling of contempt for the men who in that way had sneaked into fortune. "Say, you've got a good friend in Mrs. Will Phillips," Harris began bluntly when they were seated opposite each other. "Oh, Mrs. Phillips! I used to see something of her in Paris," Jackson acknowledged indifferently. He remembered that he had not followed the widow's invitation to call upon her, all thought of her having been driven out of his mind by the happenings of the last few days. "I rather think she would like to see more of you in Chicago!" the broker laughed back. "How do you know?" Hart asked, wondering where Harris's path crossed that of the gay Mrs. Phillips. "Oh, I know all right. She's a good customer of ours. I've been talking to her half the afternoon about things." "Oh!" Jackson exclaimed, not much interested in the subject. The broker's next remark had nothing to do with Mrs. Phillips. "You fellows don't make much money building houses. Ain't that so? You need other jobs. Well, I am going to give you a pointer." He stopped mysteriously, and then began again:-- "I happen to know that the C. R. and N. Road is going to put a lot of money into improvements this summer. Among other things they're getting ready to build new stations all along the north shore line,--you know, up through the suburbs,--Forest Park, Shoreham, and so on. They've got a lot of swell patronage out that way, and they are making ready for more." Hart listened to the broker with renewed interest. He wondered how Harris should happen to know this news ahead of the general public, and he began to see the connection it might have with his own fortune.