rous. It's the quiet ones,
who are kind to their families and raise cabbages, that are the most
violent."

"Oh, Lueders says we've got to smash everything! He rather favors
socialism himself, but he wants to tear down the court-houses first and
begin again."

"You'd better be careful or you'll land in jail, Mr. Thatcher," remarked
Marian, taking an olive.

"Oh, if anything as interesting as that should happen to me, I should
certainly die of joy!"

"But your family wouldn't like it if you went to jail," persisted
Marian, delighting in the confidences of a young gentleman for whom
jails had no terrors.

"The thought of my family is disturbing, it's positively disturbing,"
Allen replied. "Lueders has given me a chance in his shop, and really
expects me to work. Surprising in an anarchist; you'd rather expect him
to press a stick of dynamite in your hand and tell you to go out and
blow up a bank. Lueders has a sense of humor, you know: hence the
antiques, made to coax money from the purses of the fat rich. There are
more ways than one of being a cut-purse."

The lobster had been consumed, and they were almost alone in the
restaurant. Marian, with her elbows on the table, was in no haste to
leave, but Dan caught the eye of the hovering waiter and paid the check.

"You shouldn't have done that," Marian protested; "it was my party. I
sign my own checks here."

But having now asserted himself, Dan rose, and in a moment he and Allen
had bidden her good-night at the elevator door.

"You didn't seem crazy about your lobster, and you were hardly more than
polite to our hostess. Sorry to have butted in. But why have you kept
these tender recreations from me!"

"Oh, that child vexes my spirit sometimes. She's bent on making people
do things they don't want to do. Of course the lobster was a mere excuse
for getting acquainted with you; but you needn't be too set up about it:
I think her curiosity about your family is responsible,--these fake
newspaper stories about your sister--which is it, Hermione or
Gwendolen--who is always about to marry a count. Countesses haven't been
common in Indiana. We need a few to add tone to the local gossip."

"Oh," murmured Allen dejectedly: "I'm sorry if you didn't want me in the
party. It's always the way with me. Nobody ever really loves me for
myself alone. What does the adorable do besides midnight lobsters? I
thought Aunt Sally said she was at Miss Waring's school."

"She is, more