What a serious face it was! Huntington studied it with satisfaction yet with twinges of conscience.
"I should not burden you with my problem," he said penitently. "Why should youth be made to carry loads which belong to older shoulders?"
"Please—" the girl protested eagerly. "I want you to do it. I appreciate your confidence so much that I am eager to be of some real service."
"You like—responsibilities?" he queried.
"It isn't living to be without them, is it? They seem to come of their own accord to men: a woman usually has to work hard to find any that are worth while."
"Some women do," Huntington admitted; "others have more than their share without deserving them. Burdens usually seek and find the willing shoulders."
"Of course; but I mean the women who have been brought up as I have been. I've always had everything I wanted, and my parents have protected me against everything. They even protest when I rebel against my own uselessness by going into settlement work, and in other small ways try to express my individuality."
"Such as the course in bookbinding with Cobden-Sanderson?"
Merry smiled consciously. "That was such a poor attempt, because I had no ability. My squares were uneven, my backs were wrinkled, and it was really such sloppy work."
"Granting that what you say is true, yet the experience gained in doing it enabled you to understand Hamlen to-day far better than if you had never attempted it. That is the main point, isn't it?"