idered, and Miss Buckston read a review with a concentrated brow
and an occasional ejaculation of disapproval. Helen was lying prone in a
green linen chair; her garden hat was bent over her eyes and she seemed
to doze. Franklin sat on the grass in front of Althea, just outside the
radius of shadow, clasping his thin knees with his thin hands. He looked
at his worst out of doors, on a lawn and under trees. He was typically
civic. Even with his attempts to adapt his clothes to rural
requirements, he was out of place. His shoes seemed to demand a
pavement, and his thin grey coat and trousers an office stool. Althea
also eyed his tie with uncertainty. He wasn't right; he didn't in the
least look like Herbert Vaughan, who was elegant, or like Captain
Merton, who was easy. He sat out in the sunlight, undisturbed by it,
though he screwed up his features in a very unbecoming way while he
talked, the sun in his eyes. In her cool green shadow, Helen now and
then opened her eyes and looked at him, and Althea wished that he would
not remain in so resolutely disadvantageous a situation.

'See here, Althea,' he was saying, 'if you've gone so much into this
matter'--the topic was that of sweated industries--'I don't see how you
can avoid feeling responsible--making some use of all you know. I don't
ask you to come home to do it, though we need you and your kind badly
there, but you ought to lend a hand here.'

'I don't really think I could be of any use,' said Althea.

'With all your knowledge of political economy? Why, Miss Buckston could
set you to something at once. Knowledge is always of use, isn't it, Miss
Buckston?'

'Yes, if one cares enough about things to put them through,' said Miss
Buckston. 'I always tell Althea that she might make herself very useful
to me.'

'Exactly,' said Franklin. 'And she does care. All you need do, Althea,
is to harness yourself. You mustn't drift.'

'The number of drifting American women one sees over here!' Miss
Buckston ejaculated; to which Franklin cheerfully replied: 'Oh, we'll
work them all in; they are of use to us in their own way, though they
often don't know it. They are learning a lot; they are getting equipped.
The country will get the good of it some day. Look at Althea, for
instance. You might say she drifted, but she's been a hard scholar; I
know it; all she needs now is to get harnessed.'

It was not lover-like talk; yet what talk, in its very impartiality,
could from a lover