anything that you prefer to keep locked in the privacy of your own
bosom. But if I can render any assistance, you know. I have some little
influence with your parents, maybe. If I could be the happy bearer of
any communications, command me as your obedient servant."

Julia did not know what to say. To get a word to August was what she
most desired. But the thought of using Humphreys was repulsive to her.
She could not see his face in the gathering darkness, but she could
_feel_ him smile that same soulless, geometrical smile. She could not do
it. She did not know what to say. So she said nothing. Humphreys saw
that he must begin farther back.

"I hear the young man spoken of as a praiseworthy person. German, I
believe? I have always noticed a peculiar manliness about Germans. A
peculiar refinement, indeed, and a courtesy that is often wanting in
Americans. I noticed this when I was in Leipsic. I don't think the
German girls are quite so refined. German gentlemen in this country seem
to prefer American girls oftentimes."

All this might have sounded hollow enough to a disinterested listener.
To Julia the words were as sweet as the first rain after a tedious
drouth. She had heard complaint, censure, innuendo, and downright abuse
of poor Gus. These were the first generous words. They confirmed her
judgment, they comforted her heart, they made her feel grateful, even
affectionate toward the fop, in spite of his watch-seals, his curled
mustache, his straps, his cold eyes, and his artificial smile. Poor fool
you will call her, and poor fool she was. For she could have thrown
herself at the feet of Humphreys, and thanked him for his words. Thank
him she did in a stammering way, and he did not hesitate to repeat his
favorable impressions of Germans, after that. What he wanted was, not to