saw
the long gap in the satin. "You could never pin that, Mr. Ordinsky. You've
kept it folded too long, and the goods is all gone along the crease. Take
it off. I can put a new piece of lining-silk in there for you in ten
minutes." She disappeared into her work-room with the vest, leaving me to
confront the Pole, who stood against the door like a wooden figure. He
folded his arms and glared at me with his excitable, slanting brown eyes.
His head was the shape of a chocolate drop, and was covered with dry,
straw-colored hair that fuzzed up about his pointed crown. He had never
done more than mutter at me as I passed him, and I was surprised when he
now addressed me.

"Miss Lingard," he said haughtily, "is a young woman for whom I have the
utmost, the utmost respect."

"So have I," I said coldly.

He paid no heed to my remark, but began to do rapid finger-exercises on
his shirt-sleeves, as he stood with tightly folded arms.

"Kindness of heart," he went on, staring at the ceiling, "sentiment, are
not understood in a place like this. The noblest qualities are ridiculed.
Grinning college boys, ignorant and conceited, what do they know of
delicacy!"

I controlled my features and tried to speak seriously.

"If you mean me, Mr. Ordinsky, I have known Miss Lingard a long time, and
I think I appreciate her kindness. We come from the same town, and we grew
up together."

His gaze traveled slowly down from the ceiling and rested on me. "Am I to
understand that you have this young woman's interests at heart? That you
do not wish to compromise her?"

"That's a word we don't use much here, Mr. Ordinsky. A girl who makes her
own living can ask a college boy to supper without being talked about. We
take some things for granted."

"Then I have misjudged you, and I ask your pardon,"--he bowed gravely.
"Miss Lingard," he went on, "is an absolutely trustful heart. She has not
learned the hard lessons of life. As for you and me, noblesse oblige,"--he
watched me narrowly.

Lena returned with the vest. "Come in and let us look at you as you go
out, Mr. Ordinsky. I've never seen you in your dress suit," she said as
she opened the door for him.

A few moments later he reappeared with his violin case--a heavy muffler
about his neck and thick woolen gloves on his bony hands. Lena spoke
encouragingly to him, and he went off with such an important, professional
air, that we fell to laughing as soon as we had shut the door. "Poor
fell