ground in a day before germs were discovered, when women's
skirts trailed and flounced behind them in a cloud of dust. One of her
scandalized neighbors (Mrs. Nathan Pereles, it was) had taken her aside
to tell her that no decent woman would dress that way.

"Next year," said Mrs. Brandeis, "when you are wearing one, I'll remind
you of that." And she did, too. She had worn shirtwaists with a broad
"Gibson" shoulder tuck, when other Winnebago women were still encased
in linings and bodices. Do not get the impression that she stood for
emancipation, or feminism, or any of those advanced things. They had
scarcely been touched on in those days. She was just an extraordinarily
alert woman, mentally and physically, with a shrewd sense of values.
Molly Brandeis never could set a table without forgetting the spoons, or
the salt, or something, but she could add a double column of figures in
her head as fast as her eye could travel.

There she goes, running off with the story, as we were afraid she would.
Not only that, she is using up whole pages of description when she
should be giving us dialogue. Prospective readers, running their
eyes over a printed page, object to the solid block formation of the
descriptive passage. And yet it is fascinating to weave words about her,
as it is fascinating to turn a fine diamond this way and that in the
sunlight, to catch its prismatic hues. Besides, you want to know--do you
not?--how this woman who reads Balzac should be waiting upon you in a
little general store in Winnebago, Wisconsin?

In the first place, Ferdinand Brandeis had been a dreamer, and a
potential poet, which is bad equipment for success in the business of
general merchandise. Four times, since her marriage, Molly Brandeis had
packed her household goods, bade her friends good-by, and with her two
children, Fanny and Theodore, had followed her husband to pastures new.
A heart-breaking business, that, but broadening. She knew nothing of the
art of buying and selling at the time of her marriage, but as the
years went by she learned unconsciously the things one should not do
in business, from watching Ferdinand Brandeis do them all. She even
suggested this change and that, but to no avail. Ferdinand Brandeis
was a gentle and lovable man at home; a testy, quick-tempered one in
business.

That was because he had been miscast from the first, and yet had played
one part too long, even though unsuccessfully, ever to learn another. H