l you only said that in a--a horrid way to
try to make me feel uncomfortable?"

She paused for a reply; her excitement was growing. Her figure was
enveloped in a slim raincoat of fine gray; she wore a yellow straw hat
of an intriguing shape, and over it a white veil closely drawn to keep
the wet wind from her face. Now and then, as her eyes moved, a
descending black-and-gold eyelash became entangled with this veil; that
occurrence, in fact, took place at this precise moment, creating an
emergency situation of some consequence. It was a matter of considerable
public interest to see how it would all work out. However, the girl
merely raised an indifferent hand, and plucked the veil out a little.
The man V.V. looked hurriedly away.

He was saying: "I assure you I meant nothing of the kind. However,
doubtless it's natural that you should think so--"

"It seems _very_ natural to me--especially here in the new Settlement
building!... What about the _parable of the rich young man now_?"

He stood looking at her without a reply; one of his quaint looks, it
was.

However, Carlisle knew positively that he did not want to improve the
Works out of any fund he pretended to have, and was resolved to show him
no mercy now. She had really meant to spare him, and he, mistaking
magnanimity for weakness, had said what he had said. On his head be it:
his deceptive trusting look should not save him now.

"Why don't you say something?" she demanded.

The young man gave an embarrassed laugh.

"Well, to tell the honest truth, I don't seem to think of anything to
say--"

"Oh!... So the Settlement suggests _nothing_ to you--as to picking the
beam from your own eye?"

"Not at this moment, I think. In fact, I don't seem to grasp at all--"

"_Oh!_" said Cally, with a little gasp.

And then, stung on by his reckless hardihood, she struck to kill:

"How can you _look_ at me, and pretend that you're so anxious to help
other people's businesses, when you know you wouldn't even give to your
own Settlement--_not a cent_!"

The two stood facing each other, hardly a yard apart, their eyes
dead-level. V.V., as Henrietta Cooney called him, continued to look at
her, and though he was far from a florid young man, it seemed now as if
he must have been so, so much color did he have to lose. And Cally
discovered that the man had somehow managed to keep, over all these
brilliant weeks, that mysterious trick he had of making her feel unfair,
and e