. Besides, it's such a trifle."

Selma was calm and apparently unsuspicious. "Very well," said she.
"We'll write, telling what we did with the money, so that you can
investigate."

"But I trust you entirely," cried Jane.

Selma shook her head. "But we don't wish to be trusted," said she.
"Only dishonest people wish to be trusted when it's possible to avoid
trusting. And we all need watching. It helps us to keep straight."

"Oh, I don't agree with you," protested Miss Hastings. "Lots of the
time I'd hate to be watched. I don't want everybody to know all I do."

Selma's eyes opened. "Why not?" she said.

Jane cast about for a way to explain what seemed to her a self-evident
truth. "I mean--privacy," she said. "For instance, if you were in
love, you'd not want everybody to know about it?"

"Yes, indeed," declared Selma. "I'd be tremendously proud of it. It
must be wonderful to be in love."

In one of those curious twists of feminine nature, Miss Hastings
suddenly felt the glow of a strong, unreserved liking for this strange,
candid girl.

Selma went on: "But I'm afraid I never shall be. I get no time to
think about myself. From rising till bed time my work pushes at me."
She glanced uneasily at her desk, apologetically at Miss Hastings. "I
ought to be writing this minute. The strike is occupying Victor, and
I'm helping out with his work."

"I'm interrupting," said Jane. "I'll go." She put out her hand with
her best, her sweetest smile. "We're going to be friends--aren't we?"

Selma clasped her hand heartily and said: "We ARE friends. I like
everybody. There's always something to like in everyone--and the bad
part isn't their fault. But it isn't often that I like anyone so much
as I do you. You are so direct and honest--quite different from the
other women of your class that I've met."

Jane felt unaccountably grateful and humble. "I'm afraid you're too
generous. I guess you're not a very good judge of people," she said.

"So Victor--Victor Dorn--says," laughed Selma. "He says I'm too
confiding. Well--why not? And really, he trusts everybody,
too--except with the cause. Then he's--he's"--she glanced from face to
face of the four pictures--"he's like those men."

Jane's glance followed Selma's. She said: "Yes--I should imagine
so--from what I've heard." She startled, flushed, hid behind a
somewhat constrained manner. "Will you come up to my house to lunch?"

"If I can find