ng
to him she added, "We made it with our own hands, thinking you might like
to use it as a paper weight--as a reminder of what women can do."

The box was lined with blue velvet and contained a small model of the
Spencer bearing, made of gold, perfect to the last ball and the last
roller. The visitor examined it with admiration--every eye in the dining
room (which could be brought to bear) watching him through the glass
partition.

"If I ever received a more interesting souvenir," he said, "I fail to
recall it. Thank you, and please thank the others for me. Tell them how
very much I appreciate it, and tell them, too, if you will, that here in
this factory today I have had my outlook on life widened to an extent
which I had thought impossible. For that, too, I thank you."

Of course they couldn't hear him in the main room, but they could see
when he had finished speaking. They clapped their hands; the band played;
and when he arose and bowed, they clapped and played louder than before.
And a few minutes later when the party left the dining room to the
strains of El Capitan, it seemed to Mary that after the closing chord she
heard two vigorous beats of the drum--soul expression of Mrs. Kelly,
signifying "That's us!"

The visitors departed at last, and Mary returned to her office to find
other callers awaiting her.

The first was Helen, togged to the nines.

"Somehow she heard they were here," thought Mary, "and she came down
thinking to meet them. She thought surely I would bring them in here
again." But her next reflection made her frown a little. "--Partly that,
I guess," she thought, "and partly to see Burdon, as usual."

A knock on the door interrupted her, and Joe entered, bearing two cards.

"These gentlemen have been waiting since noon," he announced, "but they
said they didn't mind waiting when I told them who was with you."

The cards bore the name of a firm of public accountants.

"Oh, yes," said Mary. "Show them in, please, Joe. And ask Mr. Burdon if I
can see him for a few minutes."

If you had been there, you might have noticed a change pass over Helen. A
moment before Burdon's name was mentioned she was sitting relaxed and
rather dispirited, as you sometimes see a yacht becalmed, riding the
water without life or interest. But as soon as it appeared that Burdon
was about to enter, a breeze suddenly seemed to fill Helen's sails. Her
beauty, passive before, became active. Her bunting fluttered. Her