Alexander's Bridge

air of a man of taste who does not very often get to Boston. He had lived there as a student, but for twenty years and more, since h

l shining. The gleam of the river at the foot of the hill made him blink a little, not so much because it was too bright as because he found it so pleasant. The few passers-by glanced at him unconcernedly, and even

to Brimmer Street. The street was quiet, deserted, and hung with a thin bluish haze. He had already fixed his sharp eye upon the house which he reasoned should be his objective point, when he noticed a woman approaching rapidly from the opposite direction. Always an interested observer of women, Wilson would have slackened his pace anywhere to follow this one with his impersonal, appreciative glance. She was a person of distinction he saw at once, and, moreover, very handsome. She was tall, carried her beautiful head p

way journey. For a few pleasurable seconds he quite forgot where he was going, and only after the door had closed behind her did he realize that the young woman had entered the house to which h

still standing in the hallway. She heard him giv

at a concert, and Bartley telephoned that he would be late. Thomas will show you your room. Had you rath

tch of silver-colored river. A harp-shaped elm stood stripped against the pale-colored evening sky, with ragged last year's birds' nests in its forks, and through the bare branches the evening star quivered in the misty air. The long brown room breathed the peace of a rich a

about his tea. "And I am so sorry Bartley is late. He's often tired when he's late. He flatters

But, on my own account, I'm glad to have a few moments alone with you, before Bartley comes. I wa

nd smiled, but there was a little formal tightness in her to

ve very far out of the world, you know. But I didn't mean t

ngly. "Oh, I'm not so vain! Ho

elt that this quick, frank glance broug

iked her eyes; when she looked at one directly for a moment they were

knew Bartley when he was a boy. It is always as if they were talking of someone I had never met. Really, Professor Wilson, it would seem that he grew up a

pect the fact is that we none of us knew him very well, Mrs. Alexander. Though I

uggestive of impatience. "Oh, I should think that mi

a bad hurt early and lose their courage; and some never get a fair wind. Bartley"-he dropped his chin on the back of

ied her half-averted face. He liked the suggestion of stormy possibilities in the p

hen he was a boy. I don't believe he remembers,"

introspective. He was simply the most tremendous response to stim

der screened her face from the firelight, which was beginning to th

again hear stories about things th

ing familiarity that had come about so quickly. "What you want is a picture of him, stand

her lap. "Yes, yes; tha

Alexander rose quickly. "There he is. Away with perspective! No past, no future for B

e lights and stood six feet and more in the archway, glowing with strength and cordiality and rugged, blond good looks. There were other bridge-builders in the world, certainly, but it was always Alexander's picture that the Sunday Supplement men wanted, because he l

ong together without obtrusions of ugliness or change. It was none of Alexander's doing, of course; those warm consonances of color had been blending and mellowing before he was born. But the wonder was that he was not out of place there,-that it all seemed to glow like the inevitable background for his vigor and vehemence.

on Saturday, Bartley, M

eeting of British engineers, and I'm do

at. And it was in Canada that

h him. He had the contract for the Allway Bridge, but before he began work on it he found out that he was going to die, and he advised the committee to turn the job over to me. Otherwise I'd never have go

iece?" Wils

wore a lace scarf on her hair. She had such a flavor of life about her. She had known Gordon and Livingstone and Beaconsfield when she was young,-every one. She was the first woman of that sort I'd ever known. You know how it is in the West,-ol

e day strain would tell. Even after you began to climb, I stood down in the crowd and watched you with-well, not with confidence. The more dazzling the front you presented, the higher your facade rose, the more I expected to see a big crack zigzagging from top to bottom,"-he indicated

not I you feel sure of; it's Winifr

ed. You have decided to leave some birds

at you've only been getting yourself tied up. A million details drink you dry. Your life keeps going for things you don't want, and all the while you are being built alive into a social structure you don'

d him. The machinery was always pounding away in this man, and Wilson preferred companions of a more reflective habit of mind. He could not help feeling that there were unreasoning and unreasonable activities going on in

at the door, and almost before they could rise Mrs. Alexander was standing

hether you and Professor Wilson were quite co

son and I are growing very

lexander," Wilson began

d, though I don't practice a great many hours, I am very methodical," Mrs. Alexander explain

al of time. Wilson reflected that he had never before known a woman who had been able, for any considerable while, to support both a personal and an intellectual passion. Sitting behind her, he watched her with perplexed admiration, shading his eyes with his hand. In her dinner dress she looked even younger than in street clothes, and, for all her composure and self-sufficiency, she seemed to him strangely alert and vibrating, as if in her, too

velvet smoking-coat. His wife, Wilson surmised, had chosen it. She was clearly very proud of his good looks and his fine color. But, with the glow of an immediate interest gone out of it, the engineer's face looked tired, even a little haggard. The three lines i

g to redden under the declining sun, Wilson again found him

was a long morning with the psychologists, luncheon with Bartley at his club

he vapor from the kettle. "And do you

berated. Suddenly he broke out: "He wasn't a remarkable student, you know, though he was always strong in higher mathematics. His work in my own department was quite ordinary. It was as a powerfully equipped nature that

"that is the thing we all live upon.

" he assented warmly. "It builds the bridges into the

will see it sometime. We were married as soon as it was finished, and you will laugh when I tell you that it always has a rather bridal look to me. It is over the wildest river, with mists and clouds always battling about it, and it is as delicate as a cobweb hanging i

telling me something about your aunt last ni

imming their wick as if they were afraid of their oil's giving out. MacKeller, Bartley's first chief, was an old friend of my aunt, and he told her that Bartley was a wild, ill-governed youth, which really pleased her very much. I remember we were sitting alone in the dusk after Bartley had been there for the first time. I knew that Aunt Eleanor had found him much to her taste, but she hadn't said anything. Presently she came out, with a chuckle: `MacKeller found him sowing wild oats in London, I believe. I hope he didn't stop him too soon. Life

raph. "Oh, let us get that out of the way," he said, laughing. "Winifred, Thomas can bring my trunk d