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yish　exterior　was　the　tough　coarseness；　the　male　hardness；　the　callousness　that　met　the　brunt　and　withstood　the　shock　of　onset。

Ah；　these　men　of　the　city；　what　could　women　ever　know　of　them；　of　their　lives；　of　that　other　existence　through　whichfreed　from　the　influence　of　wife　or　mother；　or　daughter　or　sisterthey　passed　every　day　from　nine　o'clock　till　evening？　　It　was　a　life　in　which　women　had　no　part；　and　in　which；　should　they　enter　it；　they　would　no　longer　recognise　son　or　husband；　or　father　or　brother。　　The　gentle…mannered　fellow；　clean…　minded；　clean…handed；　of　the　breakfast　or　supper　table　was　one　man。　　The　other；　who　and　what　was　he？　　Down　there　in　the　murk　and　grime　of　the　business　district　raged　the　Battle　of　the　Street；　and　therein　he　was　a　being　transformed；　case　hardened；　supremely　selfish；　asking　no　quarter；　no；　nor　giving　any。　　Fouled　with　the　clutchings　and　grapplings　of　the　attack；　besmirched　with　the　elbowing　of　low　associates　and　obscure　allies；　he　set　his　feet　toward　conquest；　and　mingled　with　the　marchings　of　an　army　that　surged　forever　forward　and　back；　now　in　merciless　assault；　beating　the　fallen　enemy　under　foot；　now　in　repulse；　equally　merciless；　trampling　down　the　auxiliaries　of　the　day　before；　in　a　panic　dash　for　safety；　always　cruel；　always　selfish；　always　pitiless。

To　contrast　these　men　with　such　as　Corthell　was　inevitable。　　She　remembered　him；　to　whom　the　business　district　was　an　unexplored　country；　who　kept　himself　far　from　the　fighting；　his　hands　unstained；　his　feet　unsullied。　　He　passed　his　life　gently；　in　the　calm；　still　atmosphere　of　art；　in　the　cult　of　the　beautiful；　unperturbed；　tranquil；　painting；　reading；　or；　piece　by　piece；　developing　his　beautiful　stained　glass。　　Him　women　could　know；　with　him　they　could　sympathise。　　And　he　could　enter　fully　into　their　lives　and　help　and　stimulate　them。　　Of　the　two　existences　which　did　she　prefer；　that　of　the　business　man；　or　that　of　the　artist？

Then　suddenly　Laura　surprised　herself。　　After　all；　she　was　a　daughter　of　the　frontier；　and　the　blood　of　those　who　had　wrestled　with　a　new　world　flowed　in　her　body。　Yes；　Corthell's　was　a　beautiful　life；　the　charm　of　dim　painted　windows；　the　attraction　of　darkened　studios　with　their　harmonies　of　color；　their　orientalisms；　and　their　arabesques　was　strong。　　No　doubt　it　all　had　its　place。　　It　fascinated　her　at　times；　in　spite　of　herself。　　To　relax　the　mind；　to　indulge　the　senses；　to　live　in　an　environment　of　pervading　beauty　was　delightful。　　But　the　men　to　whom　the　woman　in　her　turned　were　not　those　of　the　studio。　　Terrible　as　the　Battle　of　the　Street　was；　it　was　yet　battle。　　Only　the　strong　and　the　brave　might　dare　it；　and　the　figure　that　held　her　imagination　and　her　sympathy　was　not　the　artist；　soft　of　hand　and　of　speech；　elaborating　graces　of　sound　and　color　and　form；　refined；　sensitive；　and　temperamental；　but　the　fighter；　unknown　and　un…knowable　to　women　as　he　was；　hard；　rigorous；　panoplied　in　the　harness　of　the　warrior；　who　strove　among　the　trumpets；　and　who；　in　the　brunt　of　conflict；　conspicuous；　formidable；　set　the　battle　in　a　rage　around　him；　and　exulted　like　a　champion　in　the　shoutings　of　the　captains。

They　were　not　long　at　table；　and　by　the　time　they　were　ready　to　depart　it　was　about　half…past　five。　　But　when　they　emerged　into　the　street；　it　was　discovered　that　once　more　the　weather　had　abruptly　changed。　　It　was　snowing　thickly。　　Again　a　bitter　wind　from　off　the　Lake　tore　through　the　streets。　　The　slush　and　melted　snow　was　freezing；　and　the　north　side　of　every　lamp　post　and　telegraph　pole　was　sheeted　with　ice。

To　add　to　their　discomfort；　the　North　State　Street　cars　were　blocked。　　When　they　gained　the　corner　of　Washington　Street　they　could　see　where　the　congestion　began；　a　few　squares　distant。

〃There's　nothing　for　it；〃　declared　Landry；　〃but　to　go　over　and　get　the　Clarke　Street　carsand　at　that　you　may　have　to　stand　up　all　the　way　home；　at　this　time　of　day。〃

They　paused；　irresolute；　a　moment　on　the　corner。　　It　was　the　centre　of　the　retail　quarter。　　Close　at　hand　a　vast　dry　goods　house；　built　in　the　old　〃iron…front〃　style；　towered　from　the　pavement；　and　through　its　hundreds　of　windows　presented　to　view　a　world　of　stuffs　and　fabrics；　upholsteries　and　textiles；　kaleidoscopic；　gleaming　in　the　fierce　brilliance　of　a　multitude　of　lights。　　From　each　street　doorway　was　pouring　an　army　of　〃shoppers；〃　women　for　the　most　part；　and　these　since　the　store　catered　to　a　rich　clientele　fashionably　dressed。　　Many　of　them　stood　for　a　moment　on　the　threshold　of　the　storm…doorways；　turning　up　the　collars　of　their　sealskins；　settling　their　hands　in　their　muffs；　and　searching　the　street　for　their　coupes　and　carriages。

Among　the　number　of　those　thus　engaged；　one；　suddenly　catching　sight　of　Laura；　waved　a　muff　in　her　direction；　then　came　quickly　forward。　　It　was　Mrs。　Cressler。

〃Laura；　my　dearest　girl！　Of　all　the　people。　　I　_am_　so　glad　to　see　you！〃　She　kissed　Laura　on　the　cheek；　shook　hands　all　around；　and　asked　about　the　sisters'　new　home。　　Did　they　want　anything；　or　was　there　anything　she　could　do　to　help？　　Then　interrupting　herself；　and　laying　a　glove　on　Laura's　arm：

〃I've　got　more　to　_tell_　you。〃

She　compressed　her　lips　and　stood　off　from　Laura；　fixing　her　with　a　significant　glance。

〃Me？　　To　tell　me？〃

〃Where　are　you　going　now？〃

〃Home；　but　our　cars　are　stopped。　　We　must　go　over　to〃

〃Fiddlesticks！　You　and　Page　and　Mrs。　Wesselsall　of　you　are　coming　home　and　dine　with　me。〃

〃But　we've　had　dinner　already；〃　they　all　cried；　speaking　at　once。

Page　explained　the　situation；　but　Mrs。　Cressler　would　not　be　denied。

〃The　carriage　is　right　here；〃　she　said。　　〃I　don't　have　to　call　for　Charlie。　　He's　got　a　man　from　Cincinnati　in　tow；　and　they　are　going　to　dine　at　the　Calumet　Club。〃

It　ended　by　the　two　sisters　and　Mrs。　Wessels　getting　into　Mrs。　Cressler's　carriage。　　Landry　excused　himself。　He　lived　on　the　South　Side；　on　Michigan　Avenue；　and　declaring　that　he　knew　they　had　had　enough　of　him　for　one　day；　took　himself　off。

But　whatever　Mrs。　Cressler　had　to　tell　Laura；　she　evidently　was　determined　to　save　for　her　ears　only。　Arrived　at　the　Dearborns'　home；　she　sent　her　footman　in　to　tell　the　〃girl〃　that　the　family　would　not　be　home　that　night。　　The　Cresslers　lived　hard　by　on　the　same　street；　and　within　ten　minutes'　walk　of　the　Dearborns。　The　two　sisters　and　their　aunt　would　be　back　immediately　after　breakfast。

When　they　had　got　home　with　Mrs。　Cressler；　this　latter　suggested　hot　tea　and　sandwiches　in　the　library；　for　the　ride　had　been　cold。　　But　the　others；　worn　out；　declared　for　bed　as　soon　as　Mrs。　Cressler　herself　had　dined。

〃Oh；　bless　you；　Carrie；〃　said　Aunt　Wess'；　〃I　couldn't　think　of　tea。　　My　back　is　just　about　broken；　and　I'm　going　straight　to　my　bed。〃

Mrs。　Cressler　showed　them　to　their　rooms。　　Page　and　Mrs。　Wessels　elected　to　sleep　together；　and　once　the　door　had　closed　upon　them　the　little　girl　unburdened　herself。

〃I　suppose　Laura　thinks　it's　all　right；　running　off　like　this　for　the　whole　blessed　night；　and　no　one　to　look　after　the　house　but　those　two　servants　that　nobody　knows　anything　about。　　As　though　there　weren't　heaven　knows　what　all　to　tend　to　there　in　the　morning。　　I　just　don't　see；〃　she　exclaimed　decisively；　〃how　we're　going　to　get　settled　at　all。　　That　Landry　Court！　My　goodness；　he's　more　hindrance　than　help。　　Did　you　ever　_see！_　He　just　dashes　in　as　though　he　were　doing　it　all；　and　messes　everything　up；　and　loses　things；　and　gets　things　into　the　wrong　place；　and　forgets　this　and　that；　and　then　he　and　Laura　sit　down　and　spoon。　　I　never　saw　anything　like　it。　　First　it's　Corthell　and　then　Landry；　and　next　it　will　be　somebody　else。　　Laura　regularly　mortifies　me；　a　great；　grown…up　girl　like　that；　flirting；　and　letting　every　man　she　meets　think　that　he's　just　the　one　particular　one　of　the　whole　earth。　It's　not　good　form。　　And　Landryas　if　he　didn't　know　we've　got　more　to　do　now　than　just　to　dawdle　and　dawdle。　　I　could　slap　him。　　I　like　to　see　a　man　take　life　seriously　and　try　to　amount　to　something；　and　not　waste　the　best　years　of　his　life　trailing　after　women　who　are　old　enough　to　be　his　grandmother；　and　don't　mean　that　it　will　ever　come　to　anything。〃

In　her　room；　in　the　front　of　the　house；　Laura　was　partly　undressed　when　Mrs。　Cressler　knocked　at　her　door。　　The　latter　had　put　on　a　wrapper　of　flowered　silk；　and　her　hair　was　bound　in　〃invisible　nets。〃

〃I　brought　you　a　dressing…gown；〃　she　said。　　She　hung　it　over　the　foot　of　the　bed；　and　sat　down　on　the　bed　itself；　watching　Laura；　who　stood　before　the　glass　of　the　bureau；　her　head　bent　upon　her　breast；　her　hands　busy　with　the　back　of　her　hair。　　From　time　to　time　the　hairpins　clicked　as　she　laid　them　down　in　the　silver　trays　close　at　hand。　　Then　putting　her　chin　in　the　air；　she　shook　her　head；　and　the　great　braids；　unlooped；　fell　to　her　waist。

〃What　pretty　hair　you　have；　child；〃　murmured　Mrs。　Cressler。　　She　was　settling　herself　for　a　long　talk　with　her　protege。　　She　had　much　to　tell；　but　now　that　they　had　the　whole　night　before　them；　could　afford　to　take　her　time。

Between　the　two　women　the　conversation　began　slowly；　with　detached　phrases　and　observations　that　did　not　call　necessarily　for　answersmere　beginnings　that　they　did　not　c