The San Francisco call., 1904-11-19

why, then, should she hesitate 10 ao-
dress him?
Lifting her eyes, she leaned for
ward with the serene blandness OF
queen addressing a subject.
Pardon me"-the voice was very
winning. but the dullest could not
have misunderstood-it was meant to
put an inferior perfectly at ease
pardon me, but 1 wonder If you
would think 1t very strange If asked
You few questions? I'm interested
In labor unions she continued, with
beautiful directness, "and 1 should
so like to hear labor's side. Excuse
the personality, but you have the ap-
pearance of a workman who thinks
for himself-who-"
She got no farther, for something
in the mans face transformed her
into picture of frozen dignity. Rip
pies of mirth seemed to be chasing
each other like little waves across his
quivering lips, while his eyes held a
hundred dancing smiles. Then sud
denly the lights went out and his face
was all humble, fattered gravity.
'Ill do my best, Miss he replied;
though as to having thought the
matter out for myself, can't claim
that L have. Still, we-us union men
think labor ought to have a chance
and were going to have it. too. Well
have capital on its knees to us yet!
Well knock the props from under it,
and don't you forget it,"
With thinly concealed anxiety-the
anxiety of one who was playing a part
and who wondered if he had done
well-he watched the effect of his
words. But he need have had no
fear, for his listener had no standard
by which to judge him. She had lis
tened with slowly kindling eyes and
the general appearance of one COM
ing into touch with the realities of life
for the first time.
When at last the car halted at Co
lumbia she alighted with the convic-
ton that the man in the blouse had
infused a new interest into life, while
he, as the car coasted down the hill
and into Harlem, stared blankly after
her disappearing figure for a second
and then burst into uncomfortable
laughter.
The jokes on me-" he confided to
himself ruefully. "It seems, then,
that blood doesn't always tell-and
that it does take the tailor to make
the man."
He glanced at the address she had
scribbled on a slip of paper for him,
shrugged his shoulders and narrowed
his eyes thoughtfully, the outcome be-
ing decision that she needed the les
son. Besides, the corners of her mouth
were distracting!
In the days that followed Miss Sin
clair was more and more amazed at
the intelligence, as we'll as the con-
tradictions of John Clayton, electri-
clan. His speech would flow on with
smooth elegance astonishing in
man of his class; then, without warn
ing, break into the most ear splitting
errors.
"Hack-kneed phrasesi Mere hack
kneed phrases!" he exclaimed fervent-
ly in the midst of a discussion one day.
You see, Miss, in your en-vy-ron-
ment"-he accented the third syllable
strongly" you can't see the things
that 1 see." Never by any chance did
he use her surname. yet his manner
at times-in moments Of self-forgetful-
ness, she fancied-verged upon perfec-
ton. Never in her life had she met
with such contradictions. And never
in her life, she mutely admitted to
herself at last, in a state Of breathless
dismay-never had she met a man so
entirely interesting.
OF himself he spoke but little, but
sometimes, in the very midst of some
deep question, he would catch a soft,
ohcnnf
intently upon him-a look that had to
do not with wealth, position or the
betterment of the working classes, but
which made him grow strangely warm
and inwardly call himself a brute.
1t was at a dinner party three
months after their first meeting that
the unmasking took place. One blind
ing flash Of surprise when Mr.. Harring-
ton was presented to her, and then Miss
Sinclair was herself again.
''Well?" he murmured brazenly when
he found himself seated beside her at
the table
Pray, what is your real name, and,
if 1 may ask, do you regard life as a
bal masque?" Deity she managed to
impart to the question that elusive
touch Of insult, the use Of which is one
of the most delicate arts that society
has to teach. But Harrington did not
vince.
John Clayton Harrington, electri-
cal engineer, who has mind to know
street railways from the ground up"
he answered sturdily. At the answer
sudden gladness leaped into her eyes.
Her head was bent low, her voice
changed.
,, Il am glad / should not want
you to be-insincere!" Copyright, 1904,
by Frances Wilson.)
To curb his wife's extravagant pro-