man of fashion she would have made a fitting
companion for a man the height of the Senator. Her eyes were
wondrously clear and bright, her skin fair, and her teeth white and
even. She was clever, too, in a sensible way, and by no means
deficient in observation. All that she lacked was training and the
assurance of which the knowledge of utter dependency despoils one. But
the carrying of washing and the compulsion to acknowledge almost
anything as a favor put her at a disadvantage.

Nowadays when she came to the hotel upon her semi-weekly errand
Senator Brander took her presence with easy grace, and to this she
responded. He often gave her little presents for herself, or for her
brothers and sisters, and he talked to her so unaffectedly that
finally the overawing sense of the great difference between them was
brushed away, and she looked upon him more as a generous friend than
as a distinguished Senator. He asked her once how she would like to go
to a seminary, thinking all the while how attractive she would be when
she came out. Finally, one evening, he called her to his side.

"Come over here, Jennie," he said, "and stand by me."

She came, and, moved by a sudden impulse, he took her hand.

"Well, Jennie," he said, studying her face in a quizzical,
interrogative way, "what do you think of me, anyhow?"

"Oh," she answered, looking consciously away, "I don't know. What
makes you ask me that?"

"Oh yes, you do," he returned. "You have some opinion of me. Tell
me now, what is it?"

"No, I haven't," she said, innocently.

"Oh yes, you have," he went on, pleasantly, interested by her
transparent evasiveness. "You must think something of me. Now, what is
it?"

"Do you mean do I like you?" she asked, frankly, looking down at
the big mop of black hair well streaked with gray which hung about his
forehead, and gave an almost lionine cast to his fine face.

"Well, yes," he said, with a sense of disappointment. She was
barren of the art of the coquette.

"Why, of course I like you," she replied, prettily.

"Haven't you ever thought anything else about me?" he went on.

"I think you're very kind," she went on, even more bashfully; she
realized now that he was still holding her hand.

"Is that all?" he asked.

"Well," she said, with fluttering eyelids, "isn't that enough?"

He looked at her, and the playful, companionable directness of her
answering gaze thrilled him through and through. He studied her face
in s