In this world of ours the activities of animal life seem to be limited to a plane or circle, as if that were an inherent necessity to the creatures of a planet which is perforce compelled to swing about the sun. A fish, for instance, may not pass out of the circle of the seas without courting annihilation; a bird may not enter the domain of the fishes without paying for it dearly. From the parasites of the flowers to the monsters of the jungle and the deep we see clearly the circumscribed nature of their movements — the emphatic manner in which life has limited them to a sphere; and we are content to note the ludicrous and invariably fatal results which attend any effort on their part to depart from their environment.

In the case of man, however, the operation of this theory of limitations has not as yet been so clearly observed. The laws governing our social life are not so clearly understood as to permit of a clear generalisation. Still, the opinions, pleas, and judgments of society serve as boundaries which are none the less real for being intangible. When men or women err — that is, pass out from the sphere in which they are accustomed to move — it is not as if the bird had intruded itself into the water, or the wild animal into the haunts of man. Annihilation is not the immediate result. People may do no more than elevate their eyebrows in astonishment, laugh sarcastically, lift up their hands in protest. And yet so well defined is the sphere of social activity that he who departs from it is doomed. Born and bred in this environment, the individual is practically unfitted for any other state. He is like a bird accustomed to a certain density of atmosphere, and which cannot live comfortably at either higher or lower level.

Lester sat down in his easy-chair by the window after his brother had gone and gazed ruminatively out over the flourishing city. Yonder was spread out before him, life with its concomitant phases of energy, hope, prosperity, and pleasure, and here he was suddenly struck by a wind of misfortune and blown aside for the time being — his prospects and purposes dissipated. Could he continue as cheerily in the paths he had hitherto pursued? Would not his relations with Jennie be necessarily affected by this sudden tide of opposition? Was not his own home now a thing of the past so far as his old easy-going relationship was concerned? All the atmosphere of unstained affection would be gone out of it now. That hearty look of approval which used to dwell in his father’s eye — would it be there any longer? Robert, his relations with the manufactory, everything that was a part of his old life, had been affected by this sudden intrusion of Louise.

“It’s unfortunate,” was all that he thought to himself, and therewith turned from what he considered senseless brooding to the consideration of what, if anything, was to be done.

“I’m thinking I’d take a run up to Mt. Clemens tomorrow, or Thursday anyhow, if I feel strong enough,” he said to Jennie after he had returned. “I’m not feeling as well as I might. A few days will do me good.” He wanted to get off by himself and think. Jennie packed his bag for him at the given time, and he departed, but he was in a sullen, meditative mood.

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