"It's true, dear. The lover who watches by the side of a stricken loved one and loses time and money--is he crazy? My father gave up his law practice to bend over my mother's bedside for six months. He was a giant in mind and body--she a poor little, broken, withered invalid. He lost money and clients and never regained them. Did it pay? Does anything that's born of love pay? Surely not children. I was always a dead expense. The biggest fee I ever received as a lawyer in New York was a shout of joy from a poor woman, whose boy I freed from a false charge of crime. She fell sobbing before me and actually kissed my feet." "Oh, Jim, why can't you be practical? Why are you not willing to fight for a fortune--as other men----" "Because, dear," he answered quickly and tenderly, "we haven't time--you and I. Life is too short. Love is too sweet. The fields are too green. The birds sing too sweetly. The treasures of earth are already mine, for Love has given me eyes to see, ears to hear, and a heart to feel. Perhaps I'm just a little crazy by the standard of New York, but, dear, I thought you were my mate! Have you forgotten our old day dreams in the fields at home?" "I've forgotten everything," she answered bitterly, "except that you are failing me when put to the first test. And it would be such a little thing for you to do." "At the price of my self-respect--and you call this a little thing--great God!" Nan rose with a sudden gesture of impatience. "You refuse absolutely to consider this generous offer?" "Absolutely." "And you are not willing to let these romantic fancies wait until you've made your fortune?" The girl spoke with cold deliberation. "How can I wait to live? I'm twenty-six. I'll never have those glorious days of my young manhood again. My ears will never be so keen again or eyes so clear again. What is the use of years of preparation to live, if at last you don't know how?" "And you are willing that the woman you love shall live in poverty while her more fortunate sisters laugh and dance in luxury?" "The one joy of my life will be to gratify every reasonable wish of your body and soul." "Yet the first reasonable wish I express, you refuse to consider." "It would be suicide----" "Oh, Jim, don't talk like a fool! Mr. Bivens says he would make you a millionaire in five years." The blood suddenly rushed to Stuart's face, and the square jaws came together with a snap. "That's very kind of Mr. Bivens, I'm sure. When I need his patronage, I'll take my place in line with other henchmen and ask for it. At present I'm paddling my own canoe." Nan suddenly extended her hand. "Good-night." He attempted to draw her into his arms. "Not like that, Nan." She repulsed him and repeated her cold dismissal: "Good-night." "Nan, dear," he pleaded, "we've never parted in anger before. Of all the hours of my life this is one in which I--I--least dreamed of such a thing." Without a word, she turned toward the stairs.