Mrs.

Wallace assisted her husband in removing his overcoat and put her warm palm s against his red and wind- beaten cheeks. "I have good news, " said she. "Anoth er bargain sale?" " Pshaw , no ! A new girl, and i really believe she's a jewel . She isn't young or good-looking , and when i asked her if she wanted any night s off she said she wouldn't go out after dark for anything in the world . What d o you think of that?" " That's too good to be true " "No , it isn't . Wait and s ee her . She came here from the intelligence office about two o'clock and said s he was willing to 'lick right in' . You wouldn't know the kitchen . She it as cl ean as a pin ." "What nationality ?" " None - that is , she's a home product. Sh e's from country - and green ! But she's a good soul , i'm sure . As soon as i l ooked at her i just felt sure that we could trust her." "Well, i hope so. If she is all that you say , why , for goodness ' sake give her any pay she wants - pu t lace curtains in her room and subscribe for all the story papers on the market ." "Bless you, i don't believe she'd read them . Every time i've looked into the kitchen she's been working like a Trojan and singing ' Beu -lah Land,'" "Oh . s he sings , does she? I knew there'd be some drawbacks." "You won't mind that . W e can keep the doors closed." The dinner-table was set in tempting cleanliness. Mrs. Wallace surveyed the arrengement of glass and silver and gave a nod of appr oval and relief. Then she touched the bell and in a moment the new servant enter ed. She was a tall woman who had said her last farewell to girlhood. Then a very strange thing happened . Mr Wallace turned to look at the new girl and his eyes enlarged. He gazed at her as if fascinated either by cap or freckles. An expres sion of wonderment came to his face and he said , " Well , by George!" The girl had came very near the table when she took the first overt glance at him . Why d id the tureen sway in her hands? She smild in a frightened way and hurriedly set the tureen on the table. Mr. Wallace was not long undecided, but during that moment of hesitancy the pano rama of his life was rolled backward. He had been reared in the democracy of a s mall community, and the democratic spirit came uppermost. "This isn't Effie Whittlesy?" said he. "For the land's sake!" she exclaimed, backing away, and this was a virtual confe ssion. "You don't know me." "Well, if it ain't Ed Wallace!" Mrs. Wallace settled back in her chair blinking, first at her husband and then a t the new girl, vainly trying to understand what it meant. She saw Mr. Wallace reach awkwardly across the table and shake hands with the ne w girl and then she found voice to gasp, "Of all things!" Mr. Wallace was confused and without a policy. He was wavering between his forma l duty as an employer and his natural regard for an old friend. Anyway, it occur red to him that an explanation would be timely. "This is Effie Whittlesy from Brainerd." said he. "I used to go to school with her. She's been at our house often. I haven't seen her for - I didn't know you were in Chicago," turning to Effie. "I thought you were still at Brainerd," said Mr. Wallace, after a pause. "I left there a year ago November." "The family's all broken up, eh?" asked Mr. Wallace. "Gone to the four winds since mother died." Mrs. Wallace came into the breach. "That will be all for the present, Effie," said she. Effie gave a started "Oh!" and vanished into the kitchen. "It means," said Mr. Wallace, "that we were children together, made mud pies in the same puddle, and sat next to each other in the old schoolhouse at Brainerd. She is a Whittlesy. Everybody in Brainerd knew the Whittlesys. Large family, all poor as church mice, but sociable - and freckled. Effie's a good girl." "Effie, Effie! And she called you Ed!" "My dear, there are no misters in Brainerd. Why shouldn't she call me Ed! She ne ver heard me called anything else." "She'll have to call you something else here. You tell her so." "Now, don't ask me to put on any airs with one of the Whittlesys, because they k

now me from way back. She has been at our house, almost like one of the family, when mother was sick and needed another girl. So I'm in no position to lord it o ver, and I wouldn't do it anyway. I'd hate to have her go back to Brainerd and r eport that she met me here in Chicago and I was too stuck up to remember old tim es and requested her to address me as ;Mister Wallace ' . Now , you never lived in a small town. ' No , I never enjoyed that privilege , ' said Mrs. Wallace ,dryly . Well , it is a privilege in some respects , but it carries certain penalties w ith it , too . It 's a very poor schooling for a fellow who wants to be a snob. I wouldn't call it anobbishness to correct a servant who addresses me by my fi rst name. Ed' indeed ! Why , I never dared to call you that . No , you never lived in Brainerd. You knew when you married me that I was a child of the soil , who worked his way through college and came to the city in a suit of store clothes . I'll admi t that my past does not exactly qualify me for the Four Hundred , but it will be great if I ever get into politics . I don't object to your having a past , bu t I was just thinking how pleasant it will be when we give a dinner-party to have her come in and hail you as Ed. I really don't belive you'd care , added Mrs Wallace. Effie isn't going to demoralize the household, he said , consolingl y . Down in Brainerd we may be a little slack on the by-laws of etiquette , but we can learn in time. Mrs. Wallace touched the bell and Effie returned. As she brought in the second course, Mrs. Wallace deliberately ancouraged her by an ami able smile . After dinner Mrs . Wallace published her esdict. Effie would have to go Mr . Wallace positively forbade the ' strong talking-to ' which his wife advocated . He said it was better that Effie should go , but she must be sent aw ay gently and diplomatically.