the falsehood troubled her.

He reflected awhile; then realizing that he had no good excuse for
further detaining her, he arose and came over to her. From his pocket
he took a thin layer of bills, and removing one, handed it to her.

"You take that," he said, "and tell your mother that I said she
should use it for whatever she wants."

Jennie accepted the money with mingled feelings; it did not occur
to her to look and see how much it was. The great man was so near her,
the wonderful chamber in which he dwelt so impressive, that she
scarcely realized what she was doing.

"Thank you," she said. "Is there any day you want your washing
called for?" she added.

"Oh yes," he answered; "Monday--Monday evenings."

She went away, and in a half reverie he closed the door behind her.
The interest that he felt in these people was unusual. Poverty and
beauty certainly made up an affecting combination. He sat down in his
chair and gave himself over to the pleasant speculations which her
coming had aroused. Why should he not help them?

"I'll find out where they live," he finally resolved.

In the days that followed Jennie regularly came for the clothes.
Senator Brander found himself more and more interested in her, and in
time he managed to remove from her mind that timidity and fear which
had made her feel uncomfortable in his presence. One thing which
helped toward this was his calling her by her first name. This began
with her third visit, and thereafter he used it with almost
unconscious frequency.

It could scarcely be said that he did this in a fatherly spirit,
for he had little of that attitude toward any one. He felt exceedingly
young as he talked to this girl, and he often wondered whether it were
not possible for her to perceive and appreciate him on his youthful
side.

As for Jennie, she was immensely taken with the comfort and luxury
surrounding this man, and subconsciously with the man himself, the
most attractive she had ever known. Everything he had was fine,
everything he did was gentle, distinguished, and considerate. From
some far source, perhaps some old German ancestors, she had inherited
an understanding and appreciation of all this. Life ought to be lived
as he lived it; the privilege of being generous particularly appealed
to her.

Part of her attitude was due to that of her mother, in whose mind
sympathy was always a more potent factor than reason. For instance,
when she brought to her the ten