A Philanthropist | Page 9

airily. "Surely, my
application--Does the room fail to meet his approval, or--"
"Yes, it does," she interrupted. "He says it's no place for a man to be in;
and he says the pictures are--are--well, he says they are improper!"
glancing at the Venus.
"Ah!" responded the director with a suspicious sweetness. "He does not
care for the nude, then?"
She sighed deeply. "Oh, Mr. Welles!"
"It is indeed to be regretted that Mr. Waters's ideals are so
high--and--shall we say--so elusive?" proceeded the director smoothly.
"It is so difficult--so well-nigh impossible--to satisfy him. One devotes
one's energies--I may say one slaves night and day--to win some slight

mark of approval; and just as one is about to reap the well-earned
reward--a smile, a word of appreciation--all is forfeited! It is hard
indeed! Would you suggest the rearrangement of the Rooms under Mr.
Waters's direction? Thompson is at his service--"
"Oh, Mr. Welles!" she sighed hopelessly. "It isn't only that! It's not
alone the room, though Mrs. Underwood wonders that I should think
she would be able to conduct the Band of Hope in here, and Mrs. Rider
says that after what her husband told her she should no more think of
sitting here for a mothers' meeting than anything in the world. It's the
whole thing. Why did you treat them all to lemonade the first day?
Surely you knew that our one aim is to prevent miscellaneous charity.
And Tom says you smoked in here--he smelt it."
"I smelt him, too," remarked the director calmly. "That was one reason
why I smoked."
"And--and having Kitty and Annabel here all the time! The Girls' Club
are so j---- Well, the Girls' Club like the old rooms better, they say, and
it's so difficult to get them to work together at best. And now we shall
have to work so hard--
"And the men think it's just a joke, the lemonade and everything, and
the room gave them such a wrong impression, and they don't seem to
want it, anyway. Tom Waters says he can't abide sarsaparilla--"
"Great heavens!" the director broke in, "is it possible? A point on
which Mr. Waters's opinion coincides with mine? I have not lived in
vain! But this is too much; I have not deserved--"
"Oh, don't!" she begged. "There is more. When I corrected Annabel for
what I had heard about her--her impertinent behavior, she said that Mrs.
Underwood had never approved of the whole thing, and that if I had
consulted her she would never have given her consent to your being
here, and that I was dictatorial--I!"
Her lodger coughed and ejaculated, "You, indeed!"

"And when I said that their ingratitude actually made me wonder why I
worked so hard for them, she said--oh, dear! It is all dreadful! I don't
know what to do!"
"I do!" returned her lodger promptly. "Go away and leave 'em! They
aren't fit to trouble you any more. Besides, they're really not so bad,
after all, you know. There has to be just about so much laziness
and--and that sort of thing, don't you see. Look at me, for instance!
Think of how much misdirected energy I balance! And it gives other
people something to do.... Go away and leave it all for a while!" he
repeated smilingly.
"Go away! But where? Why should I? What do you mean?" she
stammered, confused at something in his eyes, which never left her
face.
"To England--you said you'd like to see it. With me--for I certainly
couldn't stay here alone. Why do you suppose I stay, dear lady? I used
to wonder myself. No, sit still, don't get up! I am about to make you an
offer of marriage; indeed, I am serious, Miss Gould!
"I don't see that it's ridiculous at all. I see every practical reason in
favor of it. In the first place, if they are gossiping--oh, yes, Thompson
told me, and I wonder that they hadn't before: these villages are
dreadful places--I couldn't very well stay, you see; and then where
should I put all my things? In the second place, I have so much stuff,
and there's no house fit for it but--but ours; and if we were married I
could have just twice as much room for it--and I'm getting far too much
for my side. In the third place, I find that I can't look forward with any
pleasure to travelling about alone, because, in the fourth place, I've
grown so tremendously fond of you, dear Miss Gould! I think you don't
dislike me?"
She plucked the guitar strings nervously with her white, strong fingers.
The rich, vibrating tones of it filled the room and confused her still
more.
"People will say that I--that we--" He caught her hand: it had never

been kissed