table. Said
Selma:

"I'd like to wash my hands, and smooth my hair a little."

"You take her up, Ellen," said Jane. "And hurry. We'll be in the
dining-room when you come down."

Selma's eyes were wide and roving as she and Ellen went through the
drawing-room, the hall, up stairs and into the very prettily furnished
suite which Ellen was occupying. "I never saw anything like this
before!" exclaimed Selma. "It's the first time I was ever in a grand
house. This is a grand house, isn't it?"

"No--it's only comfortable," replied Ellen. "Mr. Hastings--and Jane,
too, don't go in for grandeur."

"How beautiful everything is--and how convenient!" exclaimed Selma. "I
haven't felt this way since the first time I went to the circus." She
pointed to a rack from which were suspended thin silk dressing gowns of
various rather gay patterns. "What are those?" she inquired.

"Dressing gowns," said Ellen. "Just to wear round while one is
dressing or undressing."

Selma advanced and felt and examined them. "But why so many?" she
inquired.

"Oh, foolishness," said Ellen. "Indulgence! To suit different moods."

"Lovely," murmured Selma. "Lovely!"

"I suspect you of a secret fondness for luxury," said Ellen slyly.

Selma laughed. "What would I do with such things?" she inquired.
"Why, I'd have no time to wear them. I'd never dare put on anything so
delicate."

She roamed through dressing-room, bedroom, bath-room, marveling,
inquiring, admiring. "I'm so glad I came," said she. "This will give
me a fresh point of view. I can understand the people of your class
better, and be more tolerant about them. I understand now why they are
so hard and so indifferent. They're quite removed from the common lot.
They don't realize; they can't. How narrow it must make one to have
one's life filled with these pretty little things for luxury and show.
Why, if I lived this life, I'd cease to be human after a short time."

Ellen was silent.

"I didn't mean to say anything rude or offensive," said Selma,
sensitive to the faintest impressions. "I was speaking my thoughts
aloud.... Do you know David Hull?"

"The young reformer?" said Ellen with a queer little smile. "Yes--quite
well."

"Does he live like this?"

"Rather more grandly," said Ellen.

Selma shook her head. A depressed expression settled upon her
features. "It's useless," she said. "He couldn't possibly become a
man."

Ellen laughed. "You must hur