think I'm an idiot and I don't want you
to think Roger is narrow-minded. If you only knew him--"

"I'm sure he has a long nose, sandy hair, grayish? watery eyes and
spectacles."

"There. I knew you hadn't a notion of him. He's nothing like that."

"Well, what _is_ he like?"

"Why, I've never thought. But he isn't like that. He has a beautiful
mind. I think that is what matters more than anything. What do looks
count for? I would rather think fine thoughts than be the handsomest
person in the world."

He might have been the handsomest person in the world but he wouldn't
have been aware of it. Through the window I saw the girl search his
bent head quickly and then peer into the fire smiling. But Jerry did
not know what she was thinking about and went on slowly:

"You've said some things that make me believe I ought to know more
about women and their work. I didn't know that they ever did the sort
of things you tell me of. It's strange I don't know, but I've always
been pretty busy in here and I've never really thought much about
them. What did you mean by 'the plague-spots of the cities'?" he
asked. "Surely there can be no such a disease as the plague in a
modern city when science has made such progress."

She smiled.

"Moral plague-spots, Jerry, civic sores." She paused.

"I don't understand."

"You will in time. The world isn't all as beautiful as you think it
is. There are men and women with diseased minds, diseased bodies that
no medicine can cure. There are hospitals and homes for them, but
there never seems to be enough money or skill or civic righteousness
to make such people well."

"How do you know all this?" he asked in wonder.

"I've always been interested in social problems. I can't abide being
idle."

"Social problems! And do you mean that you go among these diseased
people and try to make them well?"

She nodded.

"I begin to understand," he said slowly, "why you said you thought I
wasn't doing my work in the world. It's true. I've been sheltered from
evil. Things have been made easy for me. And you"--he burst forth
admiringly--"I think you're very wonderful. Perhaps some day I can
help. You'll let me help, won't you?"

"Oh, would you, Jerry?" she cried.

"I don't see any reason why I shouldn't. I shall be twenty-one in
December. I can do what I please. The executors want to make me a
business man--to go to board meetings and help run some companies my
money is in. But I don't want to