ountry.
Why don't you run up to your home town over Sunday? Wisconsin, wasn't
it?"

"Oh, no! No. I mean yes it was Wisconsin, but no I don't want to go."

"Then let me send you my car."

"Car! No, thanks. That's not my idea of the country."

"It was just a suggestion. What do you call going to the country, then?"

"Tramping all day, and getting lost, if possible. Lying down under
a tree for hours, and letting the ants amble over you. Dreaming. And
coming back tired, hungry, dusty, and refreshed."

"It sounds awfully uncomfortable. But I wish you'd try it, this week."

"Do I look such a wreck?" Fanny demanded, rather pettishly.

"You!" Fenger's voice was vibrant. "You're the most splendidly alive
looking woman I ever saw. When you came into my office that first day
you seemed to spark with health, and repressed energy, and electricity,
so that you radiated them. People who can do that, stimulate. That's
what you are to me--a stimulant."

What can one do with a man who talks like that? After all, what he said
was harmless enough. His tone was quietly sincere. One can't resent an
expression of the eyes. Then, too, just as she made up her mind to be
angry she remembered the limp and querulous Mrs. Fenger, and the valve
and the scarf. And her anger became pity. There flashed back to her
the illuminating bit of conversation with which Fascinating Facts had
regaled her on the homeward drive that night of the tea.

"Nice chap, Fenger. And a wiz in business. Get's a king's salary; Must
be hell for a man to be tied, hand and foot, the way he is."

"Tied?"

"Mrs. Fenger's a semi-invalid. At that I don't believe she's as helpless
as she seems. I think she just holds him by that shawl of hers, that's
forever slipping. You know he was a machine boy in her father's woolen
mill. She met him after he'd worked his way up to an office job. He has
forged ahead like a locomotive ever since."

That had been their conversation, gossipy, but tremendously enlightening
for Fanny. She looked up at him now.

"Thanks for the vacation suggestion. I may go off somewhere. Just a
last-minute leap. It usually turns out better, that way. I'll be ready
for the Wednesday discussion."

She sounded very final and busy. The crumpled letter lay on her desk.
She smoothed it out, and the crumple transferred itself to her forehead.
Fenger stood a moment, looking down at her. Then he turned, abruptly and
left the office. Fanny did not look up.