"Tom says I can have a new dress
-after we are married," the girl
said with a wistful glance at the rag
ged frock.
"Tom! Tom who?" demanded
Granger.
"Tom Anson-he drives a grocery
waron."
Granger had scarcely heard; ne
was thinking. This young girl with
her trusting eyes was far too young ,
to have her confidence In men shat
tered. Without ruining her trust he
must in some way prevent her throw
Ing her lot with that of a man such
as Anson and yet preserve for her
an unmarred vision into the world.
"Can you cook and mend and do
all the things required of a poor
man's wife?" he asked finally.
Her startled eyes brought a smile
to Granger's lips.
"I can't do anything like thatl I
shiver all the time I am washing
dishes and I can't stand dirt-it
makes me squirm!"
Granger again plunged into thought.
Here was a startling example of a
soul struggling against the sordid
things of life yet powerless and drift
ing with the murky current.
Granger absorbed himself in con
templation of her while she closed
her eyes in momentary fatigue.
There was refinement in her voice,
in her eyes and in her lips. The
hopeless little gestures with which
she had punctuated her story of
life had in them t'ae grace of culture.
"Madge," he used her name that
he might keep her at her ease, "I
am going to order tea and while we
are having it I have a proposition to
make to you." He rang the bell at
his side and when his butler appear
ed Granger ordered a tea that would
most appeal to a tired little waif.
