Once a week he produces a 'Woman's Page,' wherein he presents to the
Carlow female public three methods for making currant jelly, three
receipts for the concoction of salads, and directs the ladies how to
manufacture a pretty work-basket out of odd scraps in twenty minutes. The
astonishing part of it is that he has not yet been mobbed by the women who
have followed his directions."
"So you think the daily is a mistake and that your enterprising idiot
should be mobbed? Why?" She seemed to be taking him very seriously.
"I think he may be--for his 'Woman's Page.'"
"It is all wrong, you think?"
"What could a Yankee six-footer cousin of old Fisbee's know about currant
jelly and work-baskets?"
"You know about currant jelly and work-baskets yourself?"
"Heaven defend the right, I do not!"
"You are sure he is six feet?"
"You should see his signature; that leaves no doubt. And, also, his
ability denotes his stature."
"You believe that ability is in proportion to height, do you not?" There
was a dangerous luring in her tone.
His memory recalled to him that he was treading on undermined ground, so
he hastened to say: "In inverse proportion."
"Then your substitute is a failure. I see," she said, slowly.
What muffled illumination there was in their nook fell upon his face; her
back was toward it, so that she was only an outline to him, and he would
have been startled and touched to the quick, could he have known that her
lip quivered and her eyes filled with tears as she spoke the last words.
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