and to date had not drawn a check against it; which speaks well for
her will power, an attribute cultivated, not inherited.

Kitty was as pleasing to the eye as a basket of fruit. Her beauty
was animated. There was an expression in her eyes and on her lips
that spoke of laughter always on tiptoe. An enviable inheritance,
this, the desire to laugh, to be searching always for a vent to
laughter; it is something money cannot buy, something not to be
cultivated; a true gift of the gods. This desire to laugh is found
invariably in the tender and valorous; and Kitty was both. Brown
hair with running threads of gold that was always catching light;
slate-blue eyes with heavy black fringe-Irish; colour that waxed
and waned; and a healthy, shapely body. Topped by a sparkling
intellect these gifts made Kitty desirable of men.

Kitty had no beau. After the adolescent days beaux ceased to
interest her. This would indicate that she was inclined toward
suffrage. Nothing of the kind. Intensely romantic, she determined
to await the grand passion or go it alone. No experimental
adventures for her. Be assured that she weighed every new man she
met, and finding some flaw discarded him as a matrimonial
possibility. Besides, her unusual facilities to view and judge
men had shown her masculine phases the average woman would have
discovered only after the fatal knot was tied. She did not suspect
that she was romantical. She attributed her wariness to common
sense.

If there is one place where a pretty young woman may labour without
having to build a wall of liquid air about her to fend off amatory
advances that place is the editorial room of a great metropolitan