danced。。。。　　From　this　mood　I　was　awakened　with　a　start　to　feel　a　hand　on
  my　shoulder；　and　I　turned　to　confront　her　father；　McAlery　Willett；　a
  gregarious；　easygoing；　pleasure…loving　gentleman　who　made　only　a　pretence
  of　business；　having　inherited　an　ample　fortune　from　his　father；　unique
  among　his　generation　in　our　city　in　that　he　paid　some　attention　to
  fashion　in　his　dress；　good　living　was　already　beginning　to　affect　his
  figure。　　His　mellow　voice　had　a　way　of　breaking　an　octave。
  〃Don't　worry；　my　boy；〃　he　said。　　〃You　stick　to　business。　　These　college
  fellows　are　cocks　of　the　walk　just　now；　but　some　day　you'll　be　able　to
  snap　your　fingers　at　all　of　'em。〃
  The　next　day　was　dark；　overcast；　smoky；　damp…the　soft；　unwholesome
  dampness　that　follows　a　spell　of　hard　frost。　　I　spent　the　morning　and
  afternoon　on　the　gloomy　third　floor　of　Breck　and　Company；　making　a　list
  of　the　stock。　　I　remember　the　place　as　though　I　had　just　stepped　out　of
  it；　the　freight　elevator　at　the　back；　the　dusty；　iron　columns；　the
  continuous　piles　of　cases　and　bags　and　barrels　with　narrow　aisles　between
  them；　the　dirty　windows；　spotted　and　soot…streaked；　that　looked　down　on
  Second　Street。　　I　was　determined　now　to　escape　from　all　this；　and　I　had
  my　plan　in　mind。
  No　sooner　had　I　swallowed　my　supper　that　evening　than　I　set　out　at　a
  swift　pace　for　a　modest　residence　district　ten　blocks　away；　coming　to　a
  little　frame　house　set　back　in　a　yard；one　of　those　houses　in　which　the
  ringing　of　the　front　door…bell　produces　the　greatest　commotion；
  children's　voices　were　excitedly　raised　and　then　hushed。　　After　a　brief
  silence　the　door　was　opened　by　a　pleasant…faced；　brown…bearded　man；　who
  stood　staring　at　me　in　surprise。　　His　hair　was　rumpled；　he　wore　an　old
  house　coat　with　a　hole　in　the　elbow；　and　with　one　finger　he　kept　his
  place　in　the　book　which　he　held　in　his　hand。
  〃Hugh　Paret！〃　he　exclaimed。
  He　ushered　me　into　a　little　parlour　lighted　by　two　lamps；　that　bore　every
  evidence　of　having　been　recently　vacated。　　Its　features　somehow　bespoke　a
  struggle　for　existence；　as　though　its　occupants　had　worried　much　and
  loved　much。　　It　was　a　room　best　described　by　the　word　〃home〃home　made
  more　precious　by　a　certain　precariousness。　　Toys　and　school…books　strewed
  the　floor；　a　sewing…bag　and　apron　lay　across　the　sofa；　and　in　one　corner
  was　a　roll…topped　desk　of　varnished　oak。　　The　seats　of　the　chairs　were
  comfortably　depressed。
  So　this　was　where　Mr。　Wood　lived！　　Mr。　Wood；　instructor　in　Latin　and
  Greek　at　Densmore　Academy。　　It　was　now　borne　in　on　me　for　the　first　time
  that　he　did　live　and　have　his　ties　like　any　other　human　being；　instead　of
  just　appearing　magically　from　nowhere　on　a　platform　in　a　chalky　room　at
  nine　every　morning；　to　vanish　again　in　the　afternoon。　　I　had　formerly
  stood　in　awe　of　his　presence。　　But　now　I　was　suddenly　possessed　by　an
  embarrassment；　and　（shall　I　say　it？）　by　a　commiseration　bordering　on
  contempt　for　a　man　who　would　consent　to　live　thus　for　the　sake　of　being　a
  schoolteacher。　　How　strange　that　civilization　should　set　such　a　high
  value　on　education　and　treat　its　functionaries　with　such　neglect！
  Mr。　Wood's　surprise　at　seeing　me　was　genuine。　　For　I　had　never　shown　a
  particular　interest　in　him；　nor　in　the　knowledge　which　he　strove　to
  impart。
  〃I　thought　you　had　forgotten　me；　Hugh；〃　he　said；　and　added　whimsically：
  〃most　boys　do；　when　they　graduate。〃
  I　felt　the　reproach；　which　made　it　the　more　difficult　for　me　to　state　my
  errand。
  〃I　knew　you　sometimes　took　pupils　in　the　evening；　Mr。　Wood。〃
  〃Pupils；yes；〃　he　replied；　still　eyeing　me。　　Suddenly　his　eyes　twinkled。
  He　had　indeed　no　reason　to　suspect　me　of　thirsting　for　learning。　　〃But　I
  was　under　the　impression　that　you　had　gone　into　business；　Hugh。〃
  〃The　fact　is；　sir；〃　I　explained　somewhat　painfully；　〃that　I　am　not
  satisfied　with　business。　　I　feelas　if　I　ought　to　know　more。　　And　I　came
  to　see　if　you　would　give　me　lessons　about　three　nights　a　week；　because　I
  want　to　take　the　Harvard　examinations　next　summer。〃
  Thus　I　made　it　appear；　and　so　persuaded　myself；　that　my　ambition　had　been
  prompted　by　a　craving　for　knowledge。　　As　soon　as　he　could　recover　himself
  he　reminded　me　that　he　had　on　many　occasions　declared　I　had　a　brain。
  〃Your　father　must　be　very　happy　over　this　decision　of　yours；〃　he　said。
  That　was　the　point；　I　told　him。　　It　was　to　be　a　surprise　for　my　father；　I
  was　to　take　the　examinations　first；　and　inform　him　afterwards。
  To　my　intense　relief；　Mr。　Wood　found　the　scheme　wholly　laudable；　and
  entered　into　it　with　zest。　　He　produced　examinations　of　preceding　years
  from　a　pigeonhole　in　his　desk；　and　inside　of　half　an　hour　the　arrangement
  was　made；　the　price　of　the　lessons　settled。　　They　were　well　within　my
  salary；　which　recently　had　been　raised。。。。
  When　I　went　down　town；　or　collecting　bills　for　Breck　and　Company；　I　took
  a　text…book　along　with　me　in　the　street…cars。　　Now　at　last　I　had　behind
  my　studies　a　driving　force。　　Algebra；　Latin；　Greek　and　history　became
  worth　while；　means　to　an　end。　　I　astonished　Mr。　Wood；　and　sometimes　he
  would　tilt　back　his　chair；　take　off　his　spectacles　and　pull　his　beard。
  〃Why　in　the　name　of　all　the　sages；〃　he　would　demand；　〃couldn't　you　have
  done　this　well　at　school？　　You　might　have　led　your　class；　instead　of
  Ralph　Hambleton。〃
  I　grew　very　fond　of　Mr。　Wood；　and　even　of　his　thin　little　wife；　who
  occasionally　flitted　into　the　room　after　we　had　finished。　　I　fully
  intended　to　keep　up　with　them　in　after　life；　but　I　never　did。　　I　forgot
  them　completely。。。。
  My　parents　were　not　wholly　easy　in　their　minds　concerning　me；　they　were
  bewildered　by　the　new　aspect　I　presented。　　For　my　lately　acquired　motive
  was　strong　enough　to　compel　me　to　restrict　myself　socially；　and　the
  evenings　I　spent　at　home　were　given　to　study；　usually　in　my　own　room。
  Once　I　was　caught　with　a　Latin　grammar：　I　was　just　〃looking　over　it；〃　I
  said。　　My　mother　sighed。　　I　knew　what　was　in　her　mind；　she　had　always
  been　secretly　disappointed　that　I　had　not　been　sent　to　college。　　And
  presently；　when　my　father　went　out　to　attend　a　trustee's　meeting；　the
  impulse　to　confide　in　her　almost　overcame　me；　I　loved　her　with　that
  affection　which　goes　out　to　those　whom　we　feel　understand　us；　but　I　was
  learning　to　restrain　my　feelings。　　She　looked　at　me　wistfully。。。。　　I　knew
  that　she　would　insist　on　telling　my　father；　and　thus　possibly　frustrate
  my　plans。　　That　I　was　not　discovered　was　due　to　a　certain　quixotic　twist
  in　my　father's　character。　　I　was　working　now；　and　though　not　actually
  earning　my　own　living；　he　no　longer　felt　justified　in　prying　into　my
  affairs。
  When　June　arrived；　however；　my　tutor　began　to　show　signs　that　his
  conscience　was　troubling　him；　and　one　night　he　delivered　his　ultimatum。
  The　joke　had　gone　far　enough；　he　implied。　　My　intentions；　indeed；　he
  found　praiseworthy；　but　in　his　opinion　it　was　high　time　that　my　father
  were　informed　of　them；　he　was　determined　to　call　at　my　father's　office。
  The　next　morning　was　blue　with　the　presage　of　showers；　blue；　too；　with
  the　presage　of　fate。　　An　interminable　morning。　　My　tasks　had　become
  utterly　distasteful。　　And　in　the　afternoon；　so　when　I　sat　down　to　make
  out　invoices；　I　wrote　automatically　the　names　of　the　familiar　customers；
  my　mind　now　exalted　by　hope；　now　depressed　by　anxiety。　　The　result　of　an
  interview　perhaps　even　now　going　on　would　determine　whether　or　no　I
  should　be　immediately　released　from　a　slavery　I　detested。　　Would　Mr。　Wood
  persuade　my　father？　　If　not；　I　was　prepared　to　take　more　desperate
  measures；　remain　in　the　grocery　business　I　would　not。　　In　the　evening；　as
  I　hurried　homeward　from　the　corner　where　the　Boyne　Street　car　had　dropped
  me；　I　halted　suddenly　in　front　of　the　Peters　house；　absorbing　the　scene
  where　my　childhood　had　been　spent：　each　of　these　spreading　maples　was　an
  old　friend；　and　in　these　yards　I　had　played　and　dreamed。　　An
  unaccountable　sadness　passed　over　me　as　I　walked　on　toward　our　gate；　I
  entered　it；　gained　the　doorway　of　the　house　and　went　upstairs；　glancing
  into　the　sitting　room。　　My　mother　sat　by　the　window；　sewing。　　She　looked
  up　at　me　with　an　ineffable　expression；　in　which　I　read　a　trace　of　tears。
  〃Hugh！〃　she　exclaimed。
  I　felt　very　uncomfortable；　and　stood　looking　down　at　her。
  〃Why　didn't　you　tell　us；　my　son？〃　　In　her　voice　was　in　truth　reproach；
  yet　mingled　with　that　was　another　note；　which　I　think　was　pride。
  〃What　has　father　said？〃　I　asked。
  〃Oh；　my　dear；　he　will　tell　you　himself。　　II　don't　knowhe　will　talk　to
  you。〃
  Suddenly　she　seized　my　hands　and　drew　me　down　to　her；　and　then　held　me
  away；　gazing　into　my　face　with　a　passionate　questioning；　her　lips
  smiling；　her　eyes　wet。　　What　did　she　see？　　Was　there　a　subtler
  relationship　between　our　natures　than　I　guessed？　　Did　she　understand　by
  some　instinctive　power　the　riddle　within　me？　divine　through　love　the
  force　that　was　driving　me　on　she　knew　not　whither；　nor　I？　　At　the　sound
  of　my　father's　step　in　the　hall　she　released　me。　　He　came　in　as　though
  nothing　had　happened。
  〃Well；　Hugh；　are　you　home？〃　he　said。。。。
  Never　had　I　been　more　impressed；　more　bewildered　by　his　self…command　than
  at　that　time。　　Save　for　the　fact　that　my　mother　talked　less　than