avenslee, scowling. "She seems anything but mercenary."

"Mercenary!" cried Mrs. Trapes, "I should say not! I tell ye, she could
be a-rollin' around in a six-thousand-dollar automobile at this very
hour if she was that kind. With her face an' figure! She could so!"

"What do you mean?"

"I mean as there's men--rich men, an' married too--as is mad after
her--"

"Ah!" said Ravenslee, frowning again.

"You may well say 'ah!'" nodded Mrs. Trapes. "Men is all beasts more or
less! Why, I could tell you things--well, there! Hermy ain't no innocent
babe but there's some things better than innocence an' that's a
chin--will-power, Mr. Geoffrey. If a woman's sweet an' strong an'
healthy like Hermy, an' got a chin--nothin' can harm her. But beauty
like hers is a curse to any good woman if she's poor, beauty being a
quick-seller, y' see!"

"Yes, I see--I know!" said Ravenslee, clenching his hands and frowning
blacker than ever.

"But," continued Mrs. Trapes, and here she leaned forward to touch him
with an impressive, toil-worn hand, "Hermy Chesterton's jest a angel o'
light an' purity; she always has been an' always will be, but she knows
about as much as a good girl can know. She's seen the worst o' poverty,
an' she's made up her mind, when she marries, to marry a man as is a man
an' can give her all the money she wants. So y' see it ain't no good you
wastin' your time danglin' around after her an' sighin'--now is it?"

"Why, no, Mrs. Trapes, I think I'll speak to her to-night--"

"My land! ain't I jest been tryin' to show you as you ain't a fit or
worthy party to speak, an' as you won't have a chance if you do speak,
her 'eart bein' set on wealth? But you can't speak--you won't speak--I
know you won't!"

"Why not?"

"First, because t' night she's away at Englewood makin' a dress for Mrs.
Crawley as is very fond of her. An' second, because you ain't the man to
ask a girl to marry him when he ain't got nothin' t' keep her on--you
know you ain't!"

"Which brings us back to the undoubted fact that I must get a job--at
once."

"Hm!" said, Mrs. Trapes, viewing his clean-cut features and powerful
figure with approval, "what could y' do?"

"Anything, so long as I can make good, Mrs. Trapes. What should you
suggest?"

"Well," said Mrs. Trapes, caressing an elbow thoughtfully, "grocers'
assistants makes good money--an' I know Mr. Smith wants a butterman."

"Good," nodded Ravenslee, "I should like to batter butter about