She told herself that she felt compassionate toward this attractive, honest, really nice girl.It is possible, however, that an instinct of prudence may have had something to do with her ultra- conciliatory attitude toward the dusty little woman in the cheap linen dress.The enmity of one so near to Victor Dorn was certainly not an advantage.Instead of flaring up, Jane said:
``Now, Selma--do be human--do be your sweet, natural self.It isn't my fault that I am what I am.And you know that I really belong heart and soul with you.''
``Then come with us,'' said Selma.``If you think the life you lead is foolish--why, stop leading it.''
``You know I can't,'' said Jane mournfully.
``I know you could,'' retorted Selma.``Don't be a hypocrite, Jane.''
``Selma--how harsh you are!'' cried Jane.
``Either come with us or keep away from us,'' said the girl inflexibly.``You may deceive yourself--and men--with that talk of broad views and high aspirations.But you can't deceive another woman.''
``I'm not trying to deceive anybody,'' exclaimed Jane angrily.
``Permit me to say, Selma, that your methods won't make many converts to your cause.''
``Who ever gave you the idea that we were seeking converts in your class?'' inquired Selma.``Our whole object is to abolish your class--and end its drain upon us--and its bad example--and make its members useful members of our class, and more contented and happier than they are now.'' She laughed--a free and merry laugh, but not pleasant in Jane's ears.``The idea of US trying to induce young ladies and young gentlemen with polished finger nails to sit round in drawing-rooms talking patronizingly of doing something for the masses! You've got a very queer notion of us, my dear Miss Hastings.''
Jane's eyes were flashing.``Selma, there's a devil in you to-day.What is it?'' she demanded.
``There's a great deal of dust from your automobile in me and on me,'' said Selma.``I congratulate you on your good manners in rushing about spattering and befouling your fellow beings and threatening their lives.''
Jane colored and lowered her head.``I--I never thought of that before,'' she said humbly.
Selma's anger suddenly dissolved.``I'm ashamed of myself,'' she cried.``Forgive me.''
What she had said about the automobile had made an instant deep impression upon Jane, who was honestly trying to live up to her aspirations--when she wasn't giving up the effort as hopelessly beyond her powers and trying to content herself with just aspiring.She was not hypocritical in her contrition.The dust disfiguring the foliage, streaking Selma's face and hair, was forcing the lesson in manners vigorously home.``I'm much obliged to you for teaching me what I ought to have learned for myself,'' she said.``I don't blame you for scorning me.I am a pretty poor excuse.But''--with her most charming smile-- ``I'll do better--all the faster if you'll help me.''
Selma looked at her with a frank, dismayed contrition, like a child that realizes it has done something very foolish.``Oh, I'm so horribly impulsive!'' she cried.``It's always getting me into trouble.You don't know how I try Victor Dorn's patience--though he never makes the least sign.'' She laughed up at Jane.``I wish you'd give me a whipping.I'd feel lots better.''
``It'd take some of my dust off you,'' said Jane.``Let me take you to the house in the auto--you'll never see it going at that speed again, I promise.Come to the house and I'll dust you off--and we'll go for a walk in the woods.''
Selma felt that she owed it to Jane to accept.As they were climbing the hill in the auto, Selma said:
``My, how comfortable this is! No wonder the people that have autos stop exercising and get fat and sick and die.I couldn't trust myself with one.''
``It's a daily fight,'' confessed Jane.``If I were married and didn't have to think about my looks and my figure I'm afraid I'd give up.''
``Victor says the only time one ought ever to ride in a carriage is to his own funeral.''
``He's down on show and luxury of every kind-- isn't he?'' said Jane.
``No, indeed,'' replied Selma.``Victor isn't `down on'
anything.He thinks show and luxury are silly.He could be rich if he wished, for he has wonderful talent for managing things and for making money.He has refused some of the most wonderful offers--wonderful in that way.But he thinks money-making a waste of time.He has all he wants, and he says he'd as soon think of eating a second dinner when he'd just had one as of exchanging time that could be LIVED for a lot of foolish dollars.''
``And he meant it, too,'' said Jane.``In some men that would sound like pretense.But not in him.What a mind he has--and what a character!''
Selma was abruptly overcast and ominously silent.She wished she had not been turned so far by her impulse of penitence--wished she had held to the calm and deliberate part of her resolve about Jane--the part that involved keeping aloof from her.However, Jane, the tactful--hastened to shift the conversation to generalities of the softest kinds--talked about her college life--about the inane and useless education they had given her--drew Selma out to talk about her own education--in the tenement--in the public school, at night school, in factory and shop.Not until they had been walking in the woods nearly two hours and Selma was about to go home, did Victor, about whom both were thinking all the time, come into the conversation again.It was Jane who could no longer keep away from the subject--the one subject that wholly interested her nowadays.Said she:
``Victor Dorn is REALLY almost well, you think?''
After a significant pause Selma said in a tone that was certainly not encouraging, ``Obviously.''
``I was altogether wrong about Doctor Charlton,'' said Jane.
``I'm convinced now that he's the only really intelligent doctor in town.I'm trying to persuade father to change to him.''
