corners of the girl's eyes and mouth before she slowly answered:
"I sometimes think I really love you both, Norman – but there are times when I have doubts about you."
"Thanks. I suppose I must be duly grateful for small favours, or else resign myself to call you 'Mother.'"
"Would such a fate be intolerable?"
Elena drew her magnificent figure to its full height and looked into the young athlete's face with laughing audacity.
"By George, Elena, if I'm honest with you, I'd have to say no. You are tall, stately, dignified, beautiful from the crown of your black hair to the tip of your dainty toe – the most stunning-looking woman I ever saw. I never think of you as a girl just out of school. You always remind me of a glorious royal figure in some old romance of the Middle Ages – "
"Now I'm sure I love you, Norman – for the moment at least."
"Then promise to go with me on a lark to-night," he suddenly cried.
"A lark?"
Elena's gray-blue eyes danced beneath their black lashes.
"Yes, a real lark, daring, adventurous, dangerous, audacious."
"What is it – what is it? Tell me quick."
The girl seized Norman's arm with eager, childish glee.
"Let's go to that Socialist meeting and beard the lion in his den."
Elena drew back.
"No. Guardie will be furious!"
"Ah, who's afraid? Guardie be hanged!"
"Go by yourself."
"No, you've got to go with me."
"I won't do it. You just want to worry your father and then hide behind my skirts."
"You can see yourself that's the easiest way to manage it. If he has a fit, I can just say that your curiosity was excited and I had to go with you."
"But it's not excited."
"For the purposes of the lark I tell you that it is excited. There's too much patriotism in the air. It's giving me nervous prostration. I want something to brace me up. I think those fellows can give me some good points to tease the Governor with."
"Tease the Governor! You flatter yourself, Norman. He doesn't pay any more attention to your talk than he would to the bark of a six weeks' old puppy."
"That's what riles me. The Governor's so cocksure of himself. I don't know how to answer him, but I know he's wrong. The fury with which he hates the Socialists rouses my curiosity. I've always found that the good things in life are forbidden. All respectable people are positively forbidden to attend a Socialist – traitors' – meeting. For that reason let's go."
"No."
"Ah, come on. Don't be a chump. Be a sport!"
"I'd like the lark, but I won't hurt Guardie's feelings; so that's the end of it."
"Going to be a surprise, they say."
"What kind of a surprise?"
"Going to spring a big sensation."
Elena's eyes began to dance again.
"The woman called the Scarlet Nun is going to speak, and Herman Wolf, the famous 'blond beast' of Socialism, will preside. They are mates – affinities."
"Married?"
"God knows. A hundred weird stories about them circulate in the under-world."
"I won't go! Don't you say another word!" Elena snapped.
Norman was silent.
"Are you sure it would be perfectly safe, Norman?" the girl softly asked.
"Perfectly. I know every inch of that quarter of the city – went there a hundred times the year I was a reporter."
"I won't go!"
"It's the wickedest street in town. They say it's the worst block in America."
"I don't want to see it." Elena laughed.
"And the hall is a famous red-light dancing dive in the heart of Hell's Half Acre."
"Hush! Hush! I tell you I won't —I won't go! But – but if I do– you promise to hold my hand every minute, Norman?"
"And keep my arm around your waist, if you like."
Elena's cheeks flushed and her voice quivered with excitement as she paused in the doorway.
"I'll be ready in twenty minutes after dinner."
"Bully for my chum! I'll tell the Governor we've gone for a stroll."
As the shadows slowly fell over the city, Norman led Elena down the marble steps of his father's palatial home and paused for a moment on the edge of the hill on which were perched the seats of the mighty. Elena fumbled with a new glove.
"Are you ready to descend with me to the depths, my princess in disguise?" he gaily asked.
"Did you ever know me to flunk when I gave my word?"
"No, you're a brick, Elena."
Norman seized her arm and strode down the steep hillside with sure, firm step, the girl accompanying his every movement with responsive joy.
"You're awfully wicked to get me into a scrape of this kind, Norman," she cried, with bantering laughter. "You know I was dying to go slumming, and Guardie wouldn't let me. It's awfully mean of you to take advantage of me like this."
He stopped suddenly and looked gravely into her flushed face.
"Let's go back, then."
"No! I won't."
Norman broke into a laugh. "Then away with vain regrets! And remember the fate of Lot's wife."
Elena pressed his hand close to her side and whispered:
"You are with me. The big handsome captain of last year's football team. Very young and very vain and very foolish and very lazy – but I do think you'd stand by me in a scrap, Norman. Wouldn't you?"
"Well, I rather think!" was the deep answer, half whispered, as they suddenly turned a corner and plunged into the red-light district. His strong hand gripped her wrist with unusual tenderness.
"So who's afraid?" she cried, looking up into his face just as a drunken blear-eyed woman staggered through an open door and lurched against her.
A low scream of terror came from Elena as she sprang back, and the woman's head struck the pavement with a dull whack. Norman bent over her and started to lift the heavy figure, when her fist suddenly shot into his face.
"Go ter hell – I can take care o' myself!"
"Evidently," he laughed.
Elena's
