--"

Tod shuffled his feet as if ill at ease. Under the scrutiny of her calm
gaze he seemed to lose some of his self-assurance.

"You're dead right!" he stammered nervously. "But what can a fellow do?
When one's in a certain set, one has to live as everyone else does."
Summoning up courage, he demanded boldly: "If you lived in New York and
knew everybody, wouldn't you like to have a jolly good time?"

She shook her head.

"I should live as I want to live," she answered calmly. "My happiness
would consist in making others happy. If I were rich, I would go among
the poor and try to lighten the burdens of those less fortunate than I."

He laughed scornfully.

"Oh, you're one of those freak suffragettes--a socialist!"

She smiled as she replied:

"I am a Christian--a socialist if you will." There was an amused
expression on her face as she asked: "What do you know of socialism?"

"Oh, it's a lot of rot," he retorted. "We see 'em in New York--lazy,
wild-eyed guys with dirty faces and long hair, blowing off hot air on
Union Square, organizing strikes, throwing bombs, and raising Cain
generally. They're usually bums out of a job. As long as they've no
money they're rabid socialists; directly they make a little money, they
become capitalists. They're fakirs, all right!"

Paula shook her head. Gravely she said:

"I'm afraid you've got the wrong idea altogether. Socialism is
beautiful. It is the one thing that will save mankind from decadence
and gradual extinction. I am a socialist because I am a Christian.
Christ loved the poor and the lowly. I try to follow in His footsteps."

Tod looked at her in amazement. The kind of girls he was accustomed to
associate with talked quite differently. Unconsciously his manner grew
more respectful.

"So you're sailing on the _Touraine_! Say, isn't that a queer
coincidence? Awfully nice, though. I'll see you on board, won't I?
That'll be jolly." He stopped and hesitated. Then looking at her
sheepishly, he said with a grin: "Now, I've told you my name, may I know
yours? Rather informal introduction, what?"

Paula hesitated. Was it altogether proper to talk to a stranger in this
way? But he seemed such a nice, ingenuous young man. Surely there could
be no great harm in it. Before, however, she could reply, her ears
caught the sound of approaching footsteps, and at the same instant she
heard the big church clock outside striking the half hour. It was Mr.
Ricaby returning to take