went on. "That poor fellow's so quixotic
he won't take favours from a woman. But he can't refuse a helping hand
from a man like Ed Caspian."

"Have you told Mr. Storm what you're going to do for him?" I ventured to
inquire.

"Not yet," said Mrs. Shuster, slowly and conspicuously covering with
gloves a pair of hands more ringed than Saturn. "I thought I'd surprise
him. You see, he's persuaded the authorities that he's an American
(though you know what _I_ think!), so he's no emigrant, but a returning
citizen of the United States. That's what his passport makes him out to
be. I've seen it. I asked to. He'll be getting off the ship with the
rest of us, and I shall just say, 'Mr. Storm, I want you to have a
little talk with Mr. Caspian, the great social philanthropist.'"

"I see!" I responded inadequately. "But I thought, judging from the
newspapers, that Mr. Caspian had--er--turned over a new leaf since he
tumbled into all that money."

(You've read, I suppose, Mercedes mia, about the change in the White
Hope of the socialists when suddenly he found himself the tenth richest
man in America? I'd never met him myself, till the day of our landing:
I've been on the other side of the water so much since Jack and I were
married and father died. But one has often heard of Ed Caspian, the
"gentleman socialist," the shining light of settlement workers. And
since this money came to him several friends have written that it was
sad--or funny, according to the point of view--to see how he'd altered.)

"It's only the gutter papers that print those horrid stories," Mrs.
Shuster reproached me. "Why, they say things against _Me_ sometimes!
They say all I do is for self-advertisement. Did you ever hear such a
wicked lie? But we Public Characters have to put up with a lot. It's our
martyrdom. _I_ know Ed Caspian through and through. At one time--" (she
blushed and bridled as only a fat woman with two or three chins can
bridle, and I understood what she wished me to understand, though Ed
Caspian can't be more than thirty-two, and she's perhaps
forty-five)--"at one time--oh, well, he was a poor young man with noble
principles, and I'm always interested in such. My poor husband left me
free to do as I liked at his death, and I was able to help several
institutions Mr. Caspian was working for. I've been in Europe since he
got his money; but I have perfect faith in him. He's richer than I am
now, by a long shot, but he used to say he'd do a