The talk was at first rather rambling, and was not kept up
with much briskness on either side. Fenton, indeed, was so absorbed in
the task which lay before him that he hardly followed the other's
remarks, and he suddenly became aware that he had lost the thread of
conversation altogether, so that he could not possibly imagine what the
connection was when Hubbard observed,--
"Yes, it is certainly the hardest thing in the world for one being to
comprehend another."
Fenton rallied his wits quickly, and retorted with no apparent
hesitation,--
"It is so. Probably a cat couldn't possibly understand how a human
mother can properly bring up a child when she has no tail for her
offspring to play with."
"That wasn't exactly what I meant," the other returned, laughing; "but
what a fellow you are to give an unexpected turn to things."
"Do you think so?" the artist said. Then, with a painful feeling of
tightness about the throat, and a soberness of tone which he could not
prevent, he added,--"That is a reason why I have always felt that I was
one of those comparatively rare persons whom wealth would adorn, if
somebody would only show me an investment to get rich on."
"You are one of those still rarer persons who would adorn wealth," Mr.
Hubbard retorted, ignoring the latter part of the artist's remark.
"Only that you are so astonishingly outspoken, that you might cause a
revolution if you had Vanderbilt's millions to add weight to your
words.
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