Eugene knew what those tears stood for. He was anxious to avoid painful reminiscences. "Don't cry," he said. "Things are going to be much better from now on." "Oh, I hope so, I hope so," she murmured, and he patted her head affectionately as it rested on his shoulder. "There now. Cheer up, girlie, will you! We're going to be all right from now on." Angela smiled through her tears. She set the table, exceedingly cheerful. "That certainly is good news," she laughed afterward. "But we're not going to spend any more money for a long while, anyhow. We're going to save something. We don't want to get in this hole again." "No more for mine," replied Eugene gaily, "not if I know my business," and he went into the one little combination parlor, sitting room, reception room and general room of all work, to open his evening newspaper and whistle. In his excitement he almost forgot his woes over Carlotta and the love question in general. He was going to climb again in the world and be happy with Angela. He was going to be an artist or a business man or something. Look at Hudson Dula. Owning a lithographic business and living in Gramercy Place. Could any artist he knew do that? Scarcely. He would see about this. He would think this art business over. Maybe he could be an art director or a lithographer or something. He had often thought while he was with the road that he could be a good superintendent of buildings if he could only give it time enough. Angela, for her part, was wondering what this change really spelled for her. Would he behave now? Would he set himself to the task of climbing slowly and surely? He was getting along in life. He ought to begin to place himself securely in the world if he ever was going to. Her love was not the same as it had formerly been. It was crossed with dislike and opposition at times, but still she felt that he needed her to help him. Poor Eugene--if he only were not cursed with this weakness. Perhaps he would overcome it? So she mused. CHAPTER XXXI