enger herself. A sallow, plaintive woman, with a misbehaving valve. The valve, she confided to Fanny, made any effort dangerous. Also it made h

sun-porch gay with chintz and wicker, an incredible number of bathrooms. The guests, besides Fanny, included a young pair, newly married and interested solely in rents, hangings, linen closets, and the superiority of the Florentine over the Jacobean for dining room purposes; and a very scrubbed looking, handsome, spectacled man of thirty-two or three who w

improved on the chicken a la king. It lacked paprika and personality. Mrs. Fenger

ngrily. She pulled out a book here, a book there, read a paragraph, skimmed a page. There was no attempt at classification. Lever rubbed elbows with Spinoza; Mark Twain dug a facetious thumb into Haeckel's ribs. Fanny wanted to sit do

led in, looking aggrieved, and spoiled it with the thoro

s sewing basket, those two in there, and they're down on their hands and knees, measuring something. It has to d

," said Fanny,

to read. There's enough fiction, and romance, and adventure in my job to give me a

s a look that said, "We both see the humor of this. Most people wouldn't. Our angle is the same." Such a g

enger, hoping to

er, would there be a r

one? With

ack one

wife, and smiled, dryly. Fascinating Facts t

eir damned linen closets, and their rugs-I beg your pardon, Miss Brandeis! And now you

thing that appealed-some

e a nargileh, if you wanted to, s

going to drive y

dge cannot quite spoil it. Fanny sat back luxuriously and let the soft splendor of the late August night enfold her. She was intelligently monosy

u again, Miss Brandei

perhaps he did not know. "I'm with Haynes-Cooper, you

couldn't be interested in seeing a cha

upted Fanny, impulsiv

evening. Over to the Bismarck Garden

uld. Suppose yo

her apartment the other Fanny Brandeis, the calculating, ambitious, determi

this boy. Why not try certain tests with them as we used to follow certain formulae in the chemistry laboratory at hig

xperiment. If she had not been, she must have known that these we

oper claimed every ounce of her energy, every atom of her wit and resourcefulness. In return it gave-salary. Not too much salary. That would come later, perhaps. Unfortunately, Fanny Brandeis did not thrive on that kind of fare. She needed people. She craved contact. All these millions whom she

d music sense, or color reaction. It is a thing that cannot be acquired. In Fanny Brandeis there was this abnormal response to the color and tone of any city. And Chicago was a huge, polyglot orchestra, made up of pl

city's foreign quarters, or along the lake front at dusk, stimulated her like strong wine. Sh

n't think about it. Don't let the human e

ts about the plant were empty, except for an occasional passerby. At 5:31 there trickled down the broad steps of building after building thin dark streams of humanity, like the first slow line of lava that crawls down the side of an erupting volcano. The trickle broadened into a stream, spread into a flood, became a torrent that inundated the streets, the sidewalks, filling every nook and crevice, a moving mass. Ten thousand people! A city! Fanny found herself shaking with excitement, and something like terror at the immensity of it. Sh

e galley, performed deft tricks with a pancake turner. "Southern chicken dinner," a lying sign read, "with waffles and real maple syrup, 35 cents each." Past these windows promenaded the Clark street women, hard-eyed, high-heeled, aigretted; on the street corners loafed the Clark street men, blue-shaven, wearing checked suits, soiled faun-topped shoes, and diamond scarf

king through them you think of Fagin, of Children of the Ghetto, of Tales of Mean Streets. Naples is honeycombed with narrow, teeming alleys, grimed with the sediment of centuries, colored like old Stilton, and smelling much worse. But where is there another Cottage Grove avenue! Sylvan misnomer! A hideous street, and sordid. A street of flat-wheeled cars, of delicatessen shops and moving picture houses, of clanging bells, of frowsy women, of men who dart around cor

avenue is a one-side street. It's west side is a sheer mountain wall of office buildings, clubs, and hotels, whose ground floors are fascinating with specialty shops. A milliner tantalizes the passer-by with a single hat stuck knowingly on a carved stick. An art store shows two etchings, and a vase. A jeweler's window holds square blobs of emeralds, on velvet, and perhaps a gold mesh bag, sprawling limp and invertebrate, or a diamond and platinum la valliere, chastely barbaric. Past these windows, from Randolph to Twelfth surges the crowd: matinee girls, all white fox, and giggles and orchids; wise-eyed saleswomen from the smart specialty shops, dressed in next week's mode; art students, hugging their precious flat pack

gany. In the windows pose the salesmen, no less sleek and glittering than their wares. Just below these, for a block or two, rows of sinister looking houses, fallen into decay, with slatternly women lolling at their

et Manteaux." And

day papers, massaging crows'-feet somewhat futilely. She knew that women buyers do not, as a rule, catch their breath with delight at sight of the pock-marked old Field Columbian museum in Jackson Park, softened and beautified by the kindly gray chiffon of the lake mist, and tinted by the rouge of the sunset glow, so

as lying. She must have known it was the spirit of Molly Brandeis in her, and of Molly Brandeis' mother, and of her mother's mother's moth

ld have interested you. It was so likely to be littered with the most appealing bits of apparel-a pair of tiny, c

ime of abnormal business. The dull season following the holiday rush would show the real returns. Slosson was discouragement itself. His attitude was not resentful; it was pitying, and that frightened Fanny. She wished that he would storm a

thing. Fanny hesitated a moment before opening it. She always hesitated before o

t have I done all my life but give, and give, and give to him! I'm a woman. He's a

thousand her mother had bequeathed to her. She didn'

in her hands, and stared at the Ba

e I can't have that new tailor suit, or the f

open th

r Ol

et together a very decent class, backed by Auer's recommendations. Teaching! Good God, how I hate it! But Auer is planning a series of twenty concerts for me. They ought to be a success, if slaving can do it. I worked six hours a day all summer. I wanted to spend the summer-most of it, that is-in Holzhausen Am Ammersee,

feel better from now on. The truth of it is she needs a lot of things and I can't give them to her. I told you I'd been working on this concerto of mine. Sometimes I think it

ffice, up and down. A man often works off his feelings thus; a woman rarely. Fenger, who had not been twice in her office since her coming to the Haynes-Cooper plant, chose this mom

wrong,

And don't c

letter crushe

about Theodore and he had

es

gain, I

, bu

lary's going up,

e or no c

e or no c

hy

you've ea

he chair beside her desk and ran a cool finger through the sheaf of papers in his hand. "My dear girl-I beg your pardon. I forgot. My good woman then-if you like that better-you've transfused red blood

med scarlet. "I

nest as Old Dog Tray I'd think he had been selling us to the manufacturers. No wonder this depar

g but the idea that was clamoring to be born. She sat at her desk, her fingers fol

manufacturers' samples. The selector would make his choice among these, six months in advance of the season. The selector would go to the eastern markets too, of course. Not to buy. Merely to select. Then, with the line chosen as far as style, quality, and value is concerned, the buyer would be free to deal directly with the manufacturer as to quantity, time

ooked at her. But it was gone in an instant. "Gad! You'll have my jo

perfectly good idea, founded

had in mind when he started ou

t that. "Yes, but s

prepared to go into detail on it, before Mr. Haynes and the two Coopers

hink

d a day in the country. Why don't you run up to y

it was Wisconsin, but

me send yo

That's not my id

n. What do you call goin

under a tree for hours, and letting the ants amble over you.

mfortable. But I wish y

reck?" Fanny demand

came into my office that first day you seemed to spark with health, and repressed energy, and electricit

e eyes. Then, too, just as she made up her mind to be angry she remembered the limp and querulous Mrs. Fenger, and the valve and the scarf. And her anger becam

Get's a king's salary; Must be hell for a m

ie

him by that shawl of hers, that's forever slipping. You know he was a machine boy in her father's woolen mill.

ssipy, but tremendously enlightening

ere. Just a last-minute leap. It usually turns out bette

out, and the crumple transferred itself to her forehead. Fenger stood a moment, look

heads did on Saturday, during the warm weather. When her 'phone rang at eleven she answered it mechanically as does one whose te

er over the telephone c

ated the name uncertainly. "I'm afraid

you," said the

ttle, sallow, sniveling school boy of her girlhood. The little

raid it's impossible. I'm leaving the offic

even

ng for the evening. T

red to

afrai

en, "I'm coming out

's impossible, Mr. Heyl. I'm

r get to you it will be over your office boy's

Mr. Heyl! Claren

Number, please?" droned t

nd turned to her work, lips compressed, a fr

rehearsed him to do. Fanny noted that it was the wrong kind of card. She would s

always took his cue from her. She hoped he wouldn't be too rude to Heyl, and tu

d had her limp hand in a

I t

and broken office boy by now. I

ndest, most gently humorous eyes she had ever encountered. You know that picture of Lincoln that shows us his eyes with much that expression in them? That's as n

ttle blaze of ang

. After you've forgotten about that sniveling kid you hated." He stepped bac

peated Fan

this. Years! And now something

er solemnity. Then she gave it up and giggled,

he matter

gain. "It's red

ight. I've always considered r

can't w

Why ca

ecial curse hanging over them that makes them want to wear red. It's fa

desk, a picture of mock dejection. "And I chose it. Deliberately. I had black ones, an

laughed, and laughed, and laughed. Surely she

dman," she s

inning smile. "But different. Concede that,

gin to cover it. Well, now you're he

ing

here, in

nnebago to New York, and I'm in

ct me to be

you. Not only that, I expect you not to be surprised at anything I say. I've done such a mass of private thinking about you in the last ten years that

being humor

on for his not doing so. Now, wait a minute. I was an impressionable little kid, I guess. Sickly ones are apt to be. I worshiped you and hated you from that day. Worshiped you for the blazing, generous,

! I'd forgotte

our mind when you saw me in Temple that nigh

ried it now, and found herself saying, rather shamefacedl

flex my muscles-like this-to show you how strong I am? I may even have to beat you, eventually. Why, child, I've chummed with lions, and bears, and wolves, and everything, because of you, you little devil in the red cap! I've climbed unclimbable mountains. I've frozen my feet in blizzards. I've wandered for days on a mountain top, lost, living on dried currants and milk chocolate,-and Lord! how I hate milk chocolate! I've dodged snowslides, and slept in t

s round, lips parted. "But w

e you force me to it, I think I'm in love with that lit

athy and surprise rippled and played. It hardened now, and set. She looked down at her hands, and clasped them in her lap, then up at him. "In that case, you can fors

ea

t today, and see you beset by forty thieves, she'd not even stop. Not she. She'd say, `Let

n that, do you? What coul

n't pay. She just happened to know some one else

mot

es

let's play outdoors tomo

. Papers, catalogues, files, desk, chair, t

look as if you could

You're the second man to

a little. "That so?

he General

, I don't know what he had in mind, but you're goin

? Of I

well, you'll see what it is. It's only a little more than an hour's ride by train. And it will just wipe that tired look out of your face

sides, I don't think

grip. "Bring some sandwiches, will you? Quite a lot of 'em. I'll have some other stuff in my rucksa

vens

so was she, somehow, her hand still in his. "Eight o'clock. How do you sta

xt office, separated from her by a partition half glass, half wood, she saw the top of Slosson's bald head as he stood up to shut his old-fashio

You'll work overtime enough when the Christmas

s into a glorious heap, thrust them into a drawer,