Mine haven't, yet--they're only _trying_." "But they will succeed," cried Billy.
"Some of them," amended the man.
"Not--all of them ?" Billy looked a little troubled.
Arkwright shook his head slowly.
"No.

They couldn't--all of them, you know.

Some haven't the talent, some haven't the perseverance, and some haven't the money." "But all that seems such a pity-when they've tried," grieved Billy.
"It is a pity, Miss Neilson.

Disappointed hopes are always a pity, aren't they ?" "Y-yes," sighed the girl.

"But--if there were only something one could do to--help!" Arkwright's eyes grew deep with feeling, but his voice, when he spoke, was purposely light.
"I'm afraid that would be quite too big a contract for even your generosity, Miss Neilson--to mend all the broken hopes in the world," he prophesied.
"I have known great good to come from great disappointments," remarked Aunt Hannah, a bit didactically.
"So have I," laughed Arkwright, still determined to drive the troubled shadow from the face he was watching so intently.