"
"Nor the brains," interposed Helen Warford, a trifle bitterly.
"Nor the kind of brains," amended Darrow. "I have enough of that sort
myself," he added. He leaned forward, a hunger leaping in the depths of
his brown eyes. "Helen," he pleaded, "can't you see how we need each
other?"
But the girl shut both her eyes, and shook her head vigorously.
"Unless people can be _everything_ to each other, they should be
nothing--people like us," said she.
Darrow sighed and leaned back.
"I feel that way, but the devil of it is I can't think it," said he. Then
after a pause: "What is it you want of me, Helen? I'm ready."
She sat up straight, and clasped her hands.
"It's Jack," said she.
"What's the matter with Jack?"
"Everything--and nothing. He's just out of college. This fall he must go
to work. Father wants him to go into an office. Jack doesn't care much,
and will drift into the office unless somebody stops him."
"Well?" said Darrow.
"An office will ruin him. He isn't in the least interested in the things
they do in offices; and he's too high-spirited to settle down to a grind."
"He's like you in spirit, Helen," said Darrow. "What is he interested in?"
"He's interested in you."
"What!" cried Darrow. "Wish it were a family trait."
"He thinks you are wonderful, and he knows all about all your adventures
and voyages with Doctor Schermerhorn. He admires the way you look and act
and talk.
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