animal still occupied the grass-plot. Selma, when she saw the figure of
her visitor in the door-way, congratulated herself that it had been
removed. It would have pleased her to know that Mr. Littleton had
already placed her in a niche above the level of mere grass-plot
considerations. That was where she belonged of course; but she was
fearful on the score of suspected shortcomings. So it was gratifying to
be able to receive him in a smarter gown, to be wearing white cuffs, and
to offer him tea with a touch of Mrs. Taylor's tormenting urbanity. Not
so unreservedly as she. That would never do. It was and never would be
in keeping with her own ideas of serious self-respect. Still a touch of
it was grateful to herself. She felt that it was a grace and enhanced
her effectiveness.

A few moments later Selma realized that for the first time since she had
lived in Benham she was being understood and appreciated. She felt too
that for the first time she was talking to a kindred spirit--to be sure,
to one different, and more technically proficient in concrete knowledge,
possibly more able, too, to express his thoughts in words, but eminently
a comrade and sympathizer. She was not obliged to say much. Nor were,
indeed, his actual words the source of her realization. The revelation
came from what was left unsaid--from the silent recognition by him that
she was worthy to share his best thoughts and was herself a serious
worker in the struggle of life. No graceful but galling attitude of
superiority, no polite indifference to her soul-hunger, no disposition
to criticise. And yet he was no less voluble, clever, and spirited than
Mrs. Taylor. She listened with wrapt interest to his easy talk, which
was ever grave in tone, despite his pleasant sallies. He spoke of Benham
with quick appreciation of its bustling energy, and let her see that he
divined its capacity for greatness. This led him to refer with kindling
eyes to the keen impulse toward education and culture which was