A trained diplomat could not have parried the thrust more deftly. Mrs. MacGregor looked fixedly but calmly at Amy. Was that answer accidental or designed? "Because," she spoke deliberately, "in California there is not a single thing to suggest your New England home." "Except Elijah." Amy did not look up this time. She was taking her guest and her words as a matter of course. "Haven't you noticed any change in Elijah?" "No-o." Amy's voice faltered, for she was truthful. She was wondering if it was wicked to tell this lie. It did not occur to her to resent the necessity for it. "It would not be strange if he had changed. California has changed, is changing. Those who come here must change,--for better or for worse." "Elijah could not change for worse." Amy's meaning was plain, but Mrs. MacGregor smiled at her words. "I knew Elijah as a boy and as a young man. Then our paths diverged for six years. They have come together again and I am astonished at the change. He was strong, but his strength had not found a worthy purpose. It has found it here." Amy was beginning to take an active interest in the conversation. "Yes, when we first came here, the people laughed at us. Now, Elijah has got more than ten thousand orange trees growing where no one thought of their growing. People are after him all the time now. He is going to bring water to thousands of acres of desert land." Mrs. MacGregor listened impatiently to a recital of Elijah's labors, as dreary as Homer's catalogue of ships. "Yes, I know. Elijah has told me something of this and I have seen more. His strength has found a purpose. He has done a great work; but it is only a beginning, a preparation for a greater." Mrs. MacGregor began to launch forth into generalities. "At rare intervals in the progress of the world, great opportunities arise and only one man who is equal to the grasping and working out of the opportunity. Such a man, we call a genius. A genius transcends the limitations of his fellows and he also transcends their laws. It is his right; he cannot work without it. He must not be hindered or obstructed. At whatever cost of pain to those who are near and dear to him, his work must go on. It is for the good of unknown and unnumbered humanity; humanity is everything, individuals do not count. You doubtless have thought of all this; possibly have decided upon your course of action. The question is, are you ready to sacrifice yourself even, for the sake of Elijah's work?" Amy caught eagerly at the last sentence of Mrs. MacGregor's words. The more eagerly, because they were the only words that had to her the slightest meaning.