with his story. He caught the look. He had just come to the close of his
narrative. Presently she put out her hand and touched his arm.

"You have great tact," she said, "and I am grateful."

"I will not question your judgment," he replied, smiling. "I am glad that
you think so, and humbled too."

"Why humbled?" she laughed softly. "I can't imagine that."

"There are good opinions which make us vain, others which make us anxious
to live up to them, while we are afraid we can't."

"Few men know that kind of fear. You are a vain race."

"You know best. Men show certain traits to women most."

"That is true. Of the most real things they seldom speak to each other,
but to women they often speak freely, and it makes one shudder--till one
knows the world, and gets used to it."

"Why shudder?" He guessed the answer, but he wanted, not from mere
curiosity, to hear her say it.

"The business of life they take seriously--money, position, chiefly
money. Life itself--home, happiness, the affections, friendship--is an
incident, a thing to juggle with."

"I do not know you in this satirical mood," he answered. "I need time to
get used to it before I can reply."