A Little Journey in the World | Page 5

asked, with a smile of Puritan incredulity.
"A high functionary at the Propaganda gave as a reason that the United
States is the most democratic country and the Roman Catholic is the
most democratic religion, having this one notion that all men, high or
low, are equally sinners and equally in need of one thing only. And I
must say that in this country I don't find the question of social equality
interfering much with the work in their churches."
"That is because they are not trying to make this world any better, but
only to prepare for another," said Mrs. Fletcher.
"Now, we think that the nearer we approach the kingdom-of-heaven
idea on earth, the better off we shall be hereafter. Is that a modern
idea?"
"It is an idea that is giving us a great deal of trouble. We've got into
such a sophisticated state that it seems easier to take care of the future
than of the present."
"And it isn't a very bad doctrine that if you take care of the present, the
future will take care of itself," rejoined Mrs. Fletcher.
"Yes, I know," insisted Mr. Morgan; "it's the modern notion of

accumulation and compensation--take care of the pennies and the
pounds will take care of themselves--the gospel of Benjamin Franklin."
"Ah," I said, looking up at the entrance of a newcomer, "you are just in
time, Margaret, to give the coup de grace, for it is evident by Mr.
Morgan's reference, in his Bunker Hill position, to Franklin, that he is
getting out of powder."
The girl stood a moment, her slight figure framed in the doorway, while
the company rose to greet her, with a half-hesitating, half-inquiring
look in her bright face which I had seen in it a thousand times.

II
I remember that it came upon me with a sort of surprise at the moment
that we had never thought or spoken much of Margaret Debree as
beautiful. We were so accustomed to her; we had known her so long,
we had known her always. We had never analyzed our admiration of
her. She had so many qualities that are better than beauty that we had
not credited her with the more obvious attraction. And perhaps she had
just become visibly beautiful. It may be that there is an instant in a
girl's life corresponding to what the Puritans called conversion in the
soul, when the physical qualities, long maturing, suddenly glow in an
effect which we call beauty. It cannot be that women do not have a
consciousness of it, perhaps of the instant of its advent. I remember
when I was a child that I used to think that a stick of peppermint candy
must burn with a consciousness of its own deliciousness.
Margaret was just turned twenty. As she paused there in the doorway
her physical perfection flashed upon me for the first time. Of course I
do not mean perfection, for perfection has no promise in it, rather the
sad note of limit, and presently recession. In the rounded, exquisite
lines of her figure there was the promise of that ineffable fullness and
delicacy of womanhood which all the world raves about and destroys
and mourns. It is not fulfilled always in the most beautiful, and perhaps
never except to the woman who loves passionately, and believes she is

loved with a devotion that exalts her body and soul above every other
human being.
It is certain that Margaret's beauty was not classic. Her features were
irregular even to piquancy. The chin had strength; the mouth was
sensitive and not too small; the shapely nose with thin nostrils had an
assertive quality that contradicted the impression of humility in the
eyes when downcast; the large gray eyes were uncommonly soft and
clear, an appearance of alternate tenderness and brilliancy as they were
veiled or uncovered by the long lashes. They were gently commanding
eyes, and no doubt her most effective point. Her abundant hair, brown
with a touch of red in it in some lights, fell over her broad forehead in
the fashion of the time. She had a way of carrying her head, of
throwing it back at times, that was not exactly imperious, and conveyed
the impression of spirit rather than of mere vivacity. These details seem
to me all inadequate and misleading, for the attraction of the face that
made it interesting is still undefined. I hesitate to say that there was a
dimple near the corner of her mouth that revealed itself when she
smiled lest this shall seem mere prettiness, but it may have been the
keynote of her face. I only knew there was something about it that won
the heart, as a too conscious or assertive beauty never does. She may