uncommon. What is
a woman to do? Her very virtues are enemies of her peace; if she appears
as a constant check and monitor, she repels; if she weakly acquiesces,
the stream will flow over both of them. The dilemma seems hopeless.

It would be a mistake to suppose that either Edith or Jack put their
relations in any such definite shape as this. He was unthinking. She was
too high-spirited, too confident of her position, to be assailed by
such fears. And it must be said, since she was a woman, that she had
the consciousness of power which goes along with the possession of
loveliness and keen wit. Those who knew her best knew that under her
serenity was a gay temperament, inherited from the original settlers of
Manhattan, an abounding enjoyment of life, and capacity for passion. It
was early discovered in her childhood that little Edith had a will of
her own.

Lent was over. It was the time of the twittering of sparrows, of the
opening of windows, of putting in order the little sentimental spots
called "squares," where the poor children get their idea of forests, and
the rich renew their faint recollections of innocence and country life;
when the hawkers go about the streets, and the hand-organs celebrate the
return of spring and the possibility of love. Even the idle felt that it
was a time for relaxation and quiet.

"Have you answered Miss Tavish's invitation?" asked Jack one morning at
the breakfast-table.

"Not yet. I shall decline today for myself."

"Why? It's for charity."

"Well, my charity extends to Miss Tavish. I don't want to see her
dance."

"That leaves me in a nice hole. I said I'd go."

"And why not? You go to a good many places you don't take me--the clubs,
brokers' offices, Stalker's, the Conventional, and--"

"Oh, go on. Why do you object to my going to see this dance?"

"My dear Jack," said Edith, "I haven't objected the least in the world;"
and her animated face sparkled with a smile, which seemed to irritate
Jack more than a frown would have done.

"I don't see why you set yourself up. I'll bet Miss Tavish will raise
more money for the Baxter Street Guild, yes, and do more good, than you
and the priest and that woman doctor slopping about on the East Side in
six months."

"Very likely," replied Edith, still with the same good-humored smile.
"But, Jack, it's delightful to see your philanthropic spirit stirred up
in this way. You ought to be encouraged. Why don't you join Miss Tavish
in