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gin of Selma Gordon。 Thus； she assumed that she would see a frankly Jewish face。 Instead； the face looking at her from beneath the wealth of thick black hair； carelessly parted near the centre； was Russianwas Cossackstrange and primeval； intense； dark； as superbly alive as one of those exuberant tropical flowers that seem to cry out the mad joy of life。 Only； those flowers suggest the evanescent； the flame burning so fiercely that it must soon burn out； while this Russian girl declared that life was eternal。 You could not think of her as sick； as old； as anything but young and vigorous and vivid； as full of energy as a healthy baby that kicks its dresses into rags and wears out the strength of its strapping nurse。 Her nose was as straight as Jane's own particularly fine example of nose。 Her dark gray eyes； beneath long； slender； coal black lines of brow； were brimming with life and with fun。 She had a wide； frank； scarlet mouth； her teeth were small and sharp and regular； and of the strong and healthy shade of white。 She had a very small； but a very resolute chin。 With another quick； free movement she stood up。 She was indeed small； but formed in proportion。 She seemed out of harmony with her linen dress。 She looked as if she ought to be careening on the steppes in some romantic； half…savage costume。 Jane's first and instant thought was； ‘‘There's not another like her in the whole world。 She's the only living specimen of her kind。''
‘‘Gracious！'' exclaimed Jane。 ‘‘But you ARE healthy。''
The smile took full advantage of the opportunity to broaden into a laugh。 A most flattering expression of frank； childlike admiration came into the dark gray eyes。 ‘‘You're not sickly； yourself；'' replied Selma。 Jane was disappointed that the voice was not untamed Cossack； but was musically civilized。
‘‘Yes； but I don't flaunt it as you do；'' rejoined Jane。 ‘‘You'd make anyone who was the least bit off； furious。''
Selma； still with the child…like expression； but now one of curiosity； was examining Jane's masculine riding dress。 ‘‘What a sensible suit！'' she cried； delightedly。 ‘‘I'd wear something like that all the time； if I dared。''
‘‘Dared？'' said Jane。 ‘‘You don't look like the frightened sort。''
‘‘Not on account of myself；'' explained Selma。 ‘‘On account of the cause。 You see； we are fighting for a new idea。 So； we have to be careful not to offend people's prejudices about ideas not so important。 If we went in for everything that's sensible； we'd be regarded as cranks。 One thing at a time。''
Jane's glance shifted to the fourth picture。 ‘‘Didn't you say that wasKarl Marx？''
‘‘Yes。''
‘‘He wrote a book on political economy。 I tried to read it at college。 But I couldn't。 It was too heavy for me。 He was a Socialistwasn't he？the founder of Socialism？''
‘‘A great deal more than that；'' replied Selma。 ‘‘He was the most important man for human liberty that ever livedexcept perhaps one。'' And she looked at Leonardo's ‘‘man of sorrows and acquainted with grief。''
‘‘Marx was aa Hebrewwasn't he？''
Selma's eyes danced； and Jane felt that she was laughing at her hesitation and choice of the softer word。 Selma said：
‘‘Yeshe was a Jew。 Both were Jews。''
‘‘Both？'' inquired Jane； puzzled。
‘‘Marx and Jesus；'' explained Selma。
Jane was startled。 ‘‘So HE was a Jewwasn't He？''
‘‘And they were both labor leaderslabor agitators。 The first one proclaimed the brotherhood of man。 But he regarded this world as hopeless and called on the weary and heavy laden masses to look to the next world for the righting of their wrongs。 Theneighteen centuries aftercame that second Jew''Selma looked passionate； reverent admiration at the powerful； bearded face； so masterful； yet so kind‘‘and he said： ‘No！ not in the hereafter； but in the here。 Here and now； my brothers。 Let us make this world a heaven。 Let us redeem ourselves and destroy the devil of ignorance who is holding us in this hell。' It was three hundred years before that first Jew began to triumph。 It won't be so long before there are monuments to Marx in clean and beautiful and free cities all over the earth。''
Jane listened intensely。 There was admiring envy in her eyes as she cried： ‘‘How splendid！to believe in somethingand work for it and live for itas you do！''
Selma laughed； with a charming little gesture of the shoulders and the hands that reminded Jane of her foreign parentage。 ‘‘Nothing else seems worth while；'' said she。 ‘‘Nothing else is worth while。 There are only two entirely great careersto be a teacher of the right kind and work to ease men's mindsas those four didor to be a doctor of the right kind and work to make mankind healthy。 All the suffering； all the crime； all the wickedness； comes from ignorance or bad healthor both。 Usually it's simply bad health。''
Jane felt as if she were devoured of thirst and drinking at a fresh； sparkling spring。 ‘‘I never thought of that before；'' said she。
‘‘If you find out all about any criminal； big or little； you'll discover that he had bad healthpoisons in his blood that goaded him on。''
Jane nodded。 ‘‘Whenever I'm difficult to get on with； I'm always not quite well。''
‘‘I can see that your disposition is perfect； when you are well；'' said Selma。
‘‘And yours；'' said Jane。
‘‘Oh； I'm never out of humor；'' said Selma。 ‘‘You see； I'm never sicknot the least bit。''
‘‘You are Miss Gordon； aren't you？''
‘‘YesI'm Selma Gordon。''
‘‘My name is Jane Hastings。'' Then as this seemed to convey nothing to Selma； Jane added： ‘‘I'm not like you。 I haven't an individuality of my ownthat anybody knows about。 So； I'll have to identify myself by saying that I'm Martin Hastings' daughter。''
Jane confidently expected that this announcement would cause some sort of emotionperhaps of awe； perhaps of horror； certainly of interest。 She was disappointed。 If Selma felt anything she did not show itand Jane was of the opinion that it would be well nigh impossible for so direct and natural a person to conceal。 Jane went on：
‘‘I read in your paper about your fund for sick children。 I was riding past your officesaw the sign and I've come in to give what I happen to have about me。'' She drew out the small roll of bills and handed it to Selma。
The Russian girlif it is fair thus to characterize one so intensely American in manner； in accent and in speechtook the money and said：
‘‘We'll acknowledge it in the paper next week。''
Jane flushed and a thrill of alarm ran through her。 ‘‘Ohpleaseno；'' she urged。 ‘‘I'd not like to have my name mentioned。 That would look as if I had done it to seem charitable。 Besides； it's such a trifle。''
Selma was calm and apparently unsuspicious。 ‘‘Very well；'' said she。 ‘‘We'll write； telling what we did with the money； so that you can investigate。''
‘‘But I trust you entirely；'' cried Jane。
Selma shook her head。 ‘‘But we don't wish to be trusted；'' said she。 ‘‘Only dishonest people wish to be trusted when it's possible to avoid trusting。 And we all need watching。 It helps us to keep straight。''
‘‘Oh； I don't agree with you；'' protested Miss Hastings。 ‘‘Lots of the time I'd hate to be watched。 I don't want everybody to know all I do。''
Selma's eyes opened。 ‘‘Why not？'' she said。
Jane cast about for a way to explain what seemed to her a self…evident truth。 ‘‘I meanprivacy；'' she said。 ‘‘For instance； if you were in love； you'd not want everybody to know about it？''
‘‘Yes； indeed；'' declared Selma。 ‘‘I'd be tremendously proud of it。 It must be wonderful to be in love。''
In one of those curious twists of feminine nature； Miss Hastings suddenly felt the glow of a strong； unreserved liking for this strange； candid girl。
Selma went on： ‘‘But I'm afraid I never shall be。 I get no time to think about myself。 From rising till bed time my work pushes at me。'' She glanced uneasily at her desk； apologetically at Miss Hastings。 ‘‘I ought to be writing this minute。 The strike is occupying Victor； and I'm helping out with his work。''
‘‘I'm interrupting；'' said Jane。 ‘‘I'll go。'' She put out her hand with her best； her sweetest smile。 ‘‘We're going to be friendsaren't we？''
Selma c