"So the story goes, Ida," he said gently. "Hasn't John met with some heavy losses? Or don't you know about it?"
"Nothing of the kind!" she cried. "It is ridiculous. And you—— Why! we were told—— Where could Lorna have heard it? We believed you had lost the greater part of your property. I came over here this morning to offer assistance. I was afraid you had shut yourself up here in this awful place, worrying over your losses. Oh, Henry!"
Suddenly he smiled. Like Ralph's, the professor's smile was a most winning one. But it was not wholly the warmth of that smile that drew the woman closer to him.
"Ida," he said, in some wonderment, "would you have done that for me?"
"We—we have been friends so many years, Henry."
The flush in her cheek was like a girl's, but she did not drop her gaze. She met his look squarely.
"So many wasted years, Ida," the man repeated softly.
"You don't seem to have wasted them after all, Henry," she breathed. "I only thought you were a waster. You know I always did despise any person who, in this busy and needy world, was non-productive."
Professor Endicott glanced about the laboratory. He shrugged his shoulders.
"All this is vanity, Ida," he said. "Financial gain is a very small part of life. We have existed, you and I, that is all—merely vegetated. What we should have had—what was meant for us—has been lost. We are bankrupt, Ida."