Guy Fullerton was consoled in his confinement in Washington by the sense of his importance to his employer and by the letters that he received from Fanny Wallace. Though an irregular letter-writer, Fanny was voluminous, and she kept Guy amused with her comments on the people that she met and the things that she did. Occasionally one of her letters would contain a reference that would throw Guy into temporary depression. Douglas Briggs generally knew when this disaster had occurred, and used to exert himself to rouse the boy, generally with success. At these times Guy would give expression to a philosophy regarding woman so pessimistic and cynical that Briggs with difficulty kept from laughing. In spite of his own troubles, Briggs congratulated himself that he retained his sense of humor. Once he said to Guy, as they were drinking at the club: “My dear boy, you mustn’t take life so seriously.” “Well, sir,” Guy replied in a deep breath, “I’m just beginning to find out how serious it is.” “It’s all right to realize how serious it is,” Briggs went on, “but that’s different from taking it seriously. Don’t let things bother you too much, that’s what I mean--little things. Just be sure that everything is coming out all right, and don’t mind the details.” Guy shook his head doggedly. “But the details are mighty important, sometimes, Mr. Briggs.” In spite of himself, Briggs sighed. It was much easier to offer philosophy to this boy than to practise it oneself. The silence that followed was suddenly broken by Guy’s saying: “Do you believe in early marriages, Mr. Briggs?” The question was received without a smile. “That depends on a good many considerations,” Briggs replied, slowly. “And it depends chiefly on the woman. Most people would say that it depended on both the man and the woman. But it’s the woman that counts first every time.” “Well, the man counts for something, doesn’t he?” Guy urged with a faint smile; but Briggs went on as if he had not been interrupted. “The man counts only in relation to the woman. If the woman is all right, why, there’s no excuse for the man’s not being right.” Briggs tightly closed his lips. “If he isn’t, it shows there’s something radically wrong in him. There is no happiness like the happiness of a youthful marriage founded on love and character; but there is no Hell so awful as the unhappiness that comes when a marriage like that strikes disaster.” “Well, it’s a lottery, anyway, don’t you think so?” Guy asked, made somewhat uncomfortable by Douglas Briggs’s intensity, and trying to get back where the water was not too deep for him. “That’s just what it isn’t. The results of any marriage could be calculated in advance if we only knew how to weigh all the considerations. When a good woman marries an unprincipled man, misery is sure to result for her, possibly for both. When a good woman marries a weak man, well, there’s a chance that she’ll be able to bolster him up and make a strong character of him.”