LITMIR.BIZ

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you never mind,” was the clerk’s authoritative words. “I know what I’m about. Gerhardt, isn’t it? Well, you’re the people.”

      Mrs. Gerhardt moved about, rubbing her hands in her excitement, and giving vent to an occasional “Well, isn’t that nice now!”

      Gerhardt himself was melted at the thought of the generosity of the unknown benefactor, and was inclined to lay it all to the goodness of a great local mill owner, who knew him and wished him well. Mrs. Gerhardt tearfully suspected the source, but said nothing. Jennie knew, by instinct, the author of it all.

      The afternoon of the day after Christmas Brander encountered the mother in the hotel, Jennie having been left at home to look after the house.

      “How do you do, Mrs. Gerhardt,” he exclaimed genially extending his hand. “How did you enjoy your Christmas?”

      Poor Mrs. Gerhardt took it nervously; her eyes filled rapidly with tears.

      “There, there,” he said, patting her on the shoulder. “Don’t cry. You mustn’t forget to get my laundry today.”

      “Oh no, sir,” she returned, and would have said more had he not walked away.

      From this on, Gerhardt heard continually of the fine Senator at the hotel, how pleasant he was, and how much he paid for his washing. With the simplicity of a German working man, he was easily persuaded that Mr. Brander must be a very great and a very good man.

      Jennie, whose feelings needed no encouragement in this direction, was more than ever prejudiced in his favour.

      There was developing in her that perfection of womanhood, the full mould of form, which could not help but attract any man. Already she was well built, and tall for a girl. Had she been dressing in the trailing skirts of a woman of fashion she would have made a fitting companion for a man the height of the Senator. Her eyes were wondrously clear and bright, her skin fair, and her teeth white and even. She was clever, too, in a sensible way, and by no means deficient in observation. All that she lacked was training and the assurance of which the knowledge of utter dependency despoils one. But the carrying of washing and the compulsion to acknowledge almost anything as a favour put her at a disadvantage.

      Nowadays when she came to the hotel upon her semi-weekly errand Senator Brander took her presence with easy grace, and to this she responded. He often gave her little presents for herself, or for her brothers and sisters, and he talked to her so unaffectedly that finally the overawing sense of the great difference between them was brushed away, and she looked upon him more as a generous friend than as a distinguished Senator. He asked her once how she would like to go to a seminary, thinking all the while how attractive she would be when she came out. Finally, one evening, he called her to his side.

      “Come over here, Jennie,” he said, “and stand by me.”

      She came, and, moved by a sudden impulse, he took her hand.

      “Well, Jennie,” he said, studying her face in a quizzical, interrogative way, “what do you think of me, anyhow?”

      “Oh,” she answered, looking consciously away, “I don’t know. What makes you ask me that?”

      “Oh yes, you do,” he returned. “You have some opinion of me. Tell me now, what is it?”

      “No, I haven’t,” she said, innocently.

      “Oh yes, you have,” he went on, pleasantly, interested by her transparent evasiveness. “You must think something of me. Now, what is it?”

      “Do you mean do I like you?” she asked, frankly, looking down at the big mop of black hair well streaked with grey, which hung about his forehead, and gave an almost leonine cast to his fine face.

      “Well, yes,” he said, with a sense of disappointment. She was barren of the art of the coquette.

      “Why, of course I like you,” she replied, prettily.

      “Haven’t you ever thought anything else about me?” he went on.

      “I think you’re very kind,” she went on, even more bashfully; she realised now that he was still holding her hand.

      “Is that all?” he asked.

      “Well,” she said, with fluttering eyelids, “isn’t that enough?”

      He looked at her, and the playful, companionable directness of her answering gaze thrilled him through and through. He studied her face in silence while she turned and twisted, feeling, but scarcely understanding, the deep import of his scrutiny.

      “Well,” he said at last, “I think you’re a fine girl. Don’t you think I’m a pretty nice man?”

      “Yes,” said Jennie, promptly.

      He leaned back in his chair and laughed at the unconscious drollery of her reply. She looked at him curiously and smiled.

      “What made you laugh?” she inquired.

      “Oh, your answer,” he returned. “I really ought not to laugh, though. You don’t appreciate me in the least. I don’t believe you like me at all.”

      “But I do, though,” she replied, earnestly. “I think you’re so good.” Her eyes showed very plainly that she felt what she was saying.

      “Well,” he said, drawing her gently down to him; then, at the same instant he pressed his lips to her cheek.

      “Oh!” she cried, straightening up, at once startled and frightened.

      It was a new note in their relationship. The senatorial quality vanished in an instant. She recognised in him something that she had not felt before. He seemed younger, too. She was a woman to him, and he was playing the part of a lover. She hesitated, but not knowing just what to do, did nothing at all.

      “Well,” he said, “did I frighten you?”

      She looked at him, but moved by her underlying respect for this great man, she said, with a smile, “Yes, you did.”

      “I did it because I like you so much.”

      She meditated upon this a moment, and then said, “I think I’d better be going.”

      “Now then,” he pleaded, “are you going to run away because of that?”

      “No,” she said, moved by a curious feeling of ingratitude; “but I ought to be going. They’ll be wondering where I am.”

      “You’re sure you’re not angry about it?”

      “No,” she replied, and with more of a womanly air than she had ever shown before. It was a novel experience to be in so authoritative a position. It was so remarkable that it was somewhat confusing to both of them.

      “You’re my girl, anyhow,” the Senator said, rising. “I’m going to take care of you in the future.”

      Jennie heard this, and it pleased her. He was so well fitted, she thought, to do wondrous things; he was nothing less than a veritable magician. She looked about her, and the thought of coming into such a life and such an atmosphere was heavenly. Not that she fully understood his meaning, however. He meant to be good and generous, and to give her fine things. Naturally she was happy. She took up the package that she had come for, not seeing or feeling the incongruity of her position, while he felt it as a direct reproof.

      “She ought not to carry that,” he thought. A great wave of sympathy swept over him. He took her cheeks between his hands, this time in a superior and more generous way. “Never mind, little girl,” he said. “You won’t have to do this always. I’ll see what I can do.”

      The outcome of this was simply a more sympathetic relationship between them. He did not hesitate to ask her to sit beside him on the arm of his chair the next time she came, and to question her intimately about the family’s condition and her own desires. Several times he noticed that she was evading his questions, particularly in regard to what her father was doing. She

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