am a pretty poor excuse. But"--with her most charming
smile--"I'll do better--all the faster if you'll help me."

Selma looked at her with a frank, dismayed contrition, like a child
that realizes it has done something very foolish. "Oh, I'm so horribly
impulsive!" she cried. "It's always getting me into trouble. You
don't know how I try Victor Dorn's patience--though he never makes the
least sign." She laughed up at Jane. "I wish you'd give me a
whipping. I'd feel lots better."

"It'd take some of my dust off you," said Jane. "Let me take you to
the house in the auto--you'll never see it going at that speed again, I
promise. Come to the house and I'll dust you off--and we'll go for a
walk in the woods."

Selma felt that she owed it to Jane to accept. As they were climbing
the hill in the auto, Selma said:

"My, how comfortable this is! No wonder the people that have autos
stop exercising and get fat and sick and die. I couldn't trust myself
with one."

"It's a daily fight," confessed Jane. "If I were married and didn't
have to think about my looks and my figure I'm afraid I'd give up."

"Victor says the only time one ought ever to ride in a carriage is to
his own funeral."

"He's down on show and luxury of every kind--isn't he?" said Jane.

"No, indeed," replied Selma. "Victor isn't 'down on' anything. He
thinks show and luxury are silly. He could be rich if he wished, for
he has wonderful talent for managing things and for making money. He
has refused some of the most wonderful offers--wonderful in that way.
But he thinks money-making a waste of time. He has all he wants, and
he says he'd as soon think of eating a second dinner when he'd just had
one as of exchanging time that could be LIVED for a lot of foolish
dollars."

"And he meant it, too," said Jane. "In some men that would sound like
pretense. But not in him. What a mind he has--and what a character!"

Selma was abruptly overcast and ominously silent. She wished she had
not been turned so far by her impulse of penitence--wished she had held
to the calm and deliberate part of her resolve about Jane--the part
that involved keeping aloof from her. However, Jane, the
tactful--hastened to shift the conversation to generalities of the
softest kinds--talked about her college life--about the inane and
useless education they had given her--drew Selma out to talk about her
own education--in the tenement--in the public school, at night