Jewel Weed

The others looked at her doubtfully.

"Don't you think I have studied her? She has been a bald revelation to

me of things I have only half understood in better-bred women. She's

like a weed transplanted from her lean ground to a garden and grown more

luxuriant in her weediness. Do you know what I think? I believe that

when the last judgment shall strip her of her sweet pink flesh, there

will be nothing found inside but a little dry kernel, too hard to bite,

and labeled 'self'."

"You are positively vicious, Vera," said her husband gravely.

The tears came to her eyes as she turned to him.

"I really loved Dick, and she has stung him."

"But all this does not explain her hatred for Madeline."

"Do you not understand that even petty people can see how dreary and

stupid their lives are when a person like Madeline comes along? So they

hate her."

"It's good of you to consider my feelings how they grow, and to try to

bolster them up," Madeline smiled. "But I am fearfully tired. I must go

home. I hope that my father and mother will never hear of this."

"Why should they?" said Mr. Lenox. "It's only a trifle after all,

though, to be true to her nature, Vera must needs philosophize about it.

It's only a trifle."

"Except for Dick," Ellery exploded.

"Except for Dick," Mr. Lenox echoed.

"It's a great pity," Mrs. Lenox meditated, "that Dick can't knock her

down and then they could start again on a proper basis."

"It is a disadvantage to be a gentleman," laughed her husband.

"Vera," said Madeline impulsively, "you won't let this make any

difference between us and Mrs. Percival? If she is a little twisted,

poor child, she has had a cruel training; and she needs decent women all

the more. I--I really have quite got over my anger with her--and don't

let us lose Dick. Dick is like my brother. I mustn't break with him. We

must all be good to him."

"I do not know that I feel any large philanthropy," answered Mrs. Lenox,

with something between a laugh and a wry face. "But as I have invited

them as well as you to spend Easter with us in the country, I suppose

the ordinary laws of society will require me to behave myself." The

older woman kissed Madeline warmly, and Ellery moved out with her. He

had so entirely made up his mind to walk home with her that he quite

forgot to ask her permission.

He began to talk to her about himself, for almost the first time in his

reticent intimacy, and she forgot her own affairs, as he meant she

should, in listening.

Afterward she could not remember his words because parallel with them

she was reading her own interpretation. Already in a vague way she

understood him, but his little story gave her the crystallized

impression.