the counter and ask some leading questions. In more exclusive
circles, on the train or in waiting stations, he went slower. If
some seemingly vulnerable object appeared he was all attention--
to pass the compliments of the day, to lead the way to the parlor
car, carrying her grip, or, failing that, to take a seat next her
with the hope of being able to court her to her destination.
Pillows, books, a footstool, the shade lowered; all these figured
in the things which he could do. If, when she reached her
destination he did not alight and attend her baggage for her, it
was because, in his own estimation, he had signally failed.

A woman should some day write the complete philosophy of clothes.
No matter how young, it is one of the things she wholly
comprehends. There is an indescribably faint line in the matter
of man's apparel which somehow divides for her those who are
worth glancing at and those who are not. Once an individual has
passed this faint line on the way downward he will get no glance
from her. There is another line at which the dress of a man will
cause her to study her own. This line the individual at her elbow
now marked for Carrie. She became conscious of an inequality.
Her own plain blue dress, with its black cotton tape trimmings,
now seemed to her shabby. She felt the worn state of her shoes.

"Let's see," he went on, "I know quite a number of people in your
town. Morgenroth the clothier and Gibson the dry goods man."

"Oh, do you?" she interrupted, aroused by memories of longings
their show windows had cost her.

At last he had a clew to her interest, and followed it deftly.