He did not want a young man, and yet he wanted youth--its freshness, its zest--such as March would feel in a thing he could put his whole heart into.

He would not run in ruts, like an old fellow who had got hackneyed; he would not have any hobbies; he would not have any friends or any enemies.

Besides, he would have to meet people, and March was a man that people took to; she knew that herself; he had a kind of charm.

The editorial management was going to be kept in the background, as far as the public was concerned; the public was to suppose that the thing ran itself.

Fulkerson did not care for a great literary reputation in his editor--he implied that March had a very pretty little one.