its
joys and worry over its sorrows, and she understands more than most why
people act as they do because she feels enough to put herself in their
place. She is such an artist that she not only feels herself but impels
those she meets to feel. Besides, she has a freshness that is rare
nowadays. I'm very fond of Nellie."

"Evidently," said Geisner; "I've got quite interested. Is she dressmaking
still?"

"Yes; I wanted her to come and live with us but she wouldn't. Then Harry
got her a better situation in one of the government departments. You know
how those things are fixed. But she wouldn't have it. You see she is
trying to get the girls into unions."

"Then she is in the movement?" asked Geisner, looking up quickly.

Mrs. Stratton lifted her eye-brows. "In the movement! Why, haven't you
understood? My dear Geisner, here we've been talking for fifteen minutes
and--there's Nellie's ring. Harry, go and open the door while I pour
the coffee."

The opera cloak dropped from her bare shoulders as she rose from the
stool. She had fine shoulders, and altogether was of fashionable
appearance, excepting that there was about her the impalpable, but none
the less pronounced, air of the woman who associates with men as a
comrade. As she crossed the room to the verandah she stopped beside the
gloomy young man, who had said nothing. He looked up at her
affectionately.

"You are wrong to worry," she said, softly. "Besides, it makes you bad
company. You haven't spoken to a soul since we came in. For a punishment
come and cut the lemon."

They went out on to the verandah together, her hand resting on his arm.
There, on a broad shelf, a kettle of water was already boiling over a gas
stove.

"What are you thinking of," she chattered. "We shall have some more of
your ferocious poetry, I suppose. I notice that about you, Arty. Whenever
you get into your blue fits you always pour out blood and thunder verses.
The bluer you are the more volcanic you get. When you have it really bad
you simply breathe dynamite, barricades, brimstone, everything that is
emphatic. What is it this time?"

He laughed. "Why won't you let a man stay blue when he feels like it?"

She did not seem to think an answer necessary, either to his question or
her own. "Have you a match?" she went on. "Ah! There is one thing in
which a man is superior to woman. He can generally get a light without
running all over the house. That is so useful of him. It's his one