"I am not speaking to you as Colette King," she replied with a look half

cajoling, half flippant, "but as a teacher in the Young Woman's

Auxiliary Guild to the rector of St. Mark's. You see I no longer lead a

foolish, futile life. Here is the evidence in the case," holding up a

slender pink forefinger. "See how it is pricked! For three Saturday

afternoons I have shown little girls that smelled of fried potatoes how

to sew. I shall really learn something myself about the feminine art of

needlework if I continue in my present straight, domestic path."

"Colette, you cannot know how glad I am to hear this. Why did you try to

make me think the laundry work was--"

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"But the laundry work _is_ the main issue. Yesterday I had quite decided

to give up this uninteresting work."

Watching him warily, she let the shadow in his eyes linger a moment

before she continued: "And then there came into my class a new pupil, poorly clad and

ignorant, but so redolent of soapsuds and with such a freshly laundered

look that I renewed my inclinations to charity. I took her home in my

electric, and she lived at a distance that gave me ample time to listen

to the complete chronicles of her young life. Her father is dead. Her

mother was left with eight children whom she supports by taking in

washing. They have a boarder and they go around the dining-room table

twice. My new pupil's name is Amarilly Jenkins, and she has educational

longings which cannot be satisfied because she has to work, so I am

going to enter her in St. Mark's night-school when she has finished a

special course with the private tutor she now has."

"Colette," said the young minister earnestly, "why do you continually

try to show yourself to me in a false light? It was sweet in you to take

this little girl home in your brougham and to feel an interest in her

improvement."

"Not at all!" protested Colette. "My trend at present may appear to be

charitable, but Amarilly and I have a common interest--a fellow

feeling--that makes me wondrous kind. We both have longings to appear in

public on the stage."

At this sudden challenge, this second lowering of the red flag, John's

face grew stern.

"Amarilly," continued the liquid voice,--"has had more experience in

stage life than I have had. She has commenced at the lowest round of the

dramatic ladder of fame. She scrubs at the Barlow Theatre, and she is

quite familiar with stage lore. Her hero is the man who plays the role

of Lord Algernon in _A Terrible Trial_."




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