So she told them a story of a hero, a plain, simple man, a man of toil, a man of great heart. She pictured his faithfulness to simple duties, his rise to the highest position his countrymen could bestow upon him, his death and the nation's sorrow.

As she finished, a cowboy asked, "Did yer say that Abraham Lincoln was onct president of the United States?"

"Yes."

"My!" he exclaimed, "I wisht I'd 'a knowed him! I wisht I could 'a fit on his side!"

"It is not too late to fight on his side," she said. "Every time you try to live a more sober, honest, decent life, every time you try to be more manly and true, you are fighting on the same side he did."

"Gosh!" he said. "I didn't know that. I thought fightin' meant jest killin' off the other fellers."

While the refreshments were being served, John Harding extended an invitation to the men to attend the club regularly, and suggested that the girls see Miss Bright about a club for girls, adding:

"I believe a club fer women is in the air."

Vociferous applause. Patrick Murphy stepped forward.

"John Harding, y'r honor, I jist wish ter say as this is the foinest toime Oi've had in Ameriky; an' I tells yez all this: that if any young feller wishes ter git on, he will have a chance here in this club. Schoolma'am learns us a lot (the Saints bliss her!). She's a foine lady! She believes in givin' a man a chance ter be a man. Instid o' wastin' our earnin's in the saloons Sat.u.r.day nights, let's come here t' the club, an' learn how ter git on. Save y'r money, lads. Now who'll give three cheers f'r Miss Bright?"

The room rang with the cheers.

The festivities were over, the last guest, gone. The officers had taken their leave, and the Claytons walked on ahead, leaving Kenneth Hastings to escort Esther Bright home.

"It was a great success," he said enthusiastically.

When Esther spoke, there was an expression of weariness in her voice.

"Tired?" he asked gently, with sudden sympathy.

"A little."

She looked so slight, so fragile, to shoulder a man's work in the world, he felt a sudden shame at the insignificance of what he had done. He would stand between her and the world, this he would do.

"You gave an instructive and interesting talk," she was saying. He recalled his wandering thoughts.

After thanking her, he said he had liked Patrick's remarks about her being a magnet.

"Patrick's great fun, isn't he?" she laughed.

"Yes, but he usually hits the right nail on the head. It is true, as he said, you _do_ draw people to you. You draw me to you as no one has ever done."

"Don't!" she began.

"You have taught me to believe in true womanhood. I used to despise women. I thought they were a vain, frivolous lot, at the bottom of all the wrong-doing of the world."

"Indeed! I understand that some Englishmen have very little respect for woman; that she is regarded as the inferior of man, a little higher in the scale of intelligence than a horse or dog."

"How sarcastic we are to-night!" he said ironically.

"The Englishwoman trains her daughters to wait on their father and brothers."

"How extensive has your acquaintance been with the English?"

"Many American men grow up as their fathers have done before them, chivalrous toward the women of their families, and often chivalrous to women everywhere."

"Indeed! A paragon of animals, the American man!"

"England kept her universities closed to women, because English men were afraid bright English women would carry off scholastic honors, if admitted to the universities."

"What remarkable wisdom you possess in the matter!"

"I read the magazines."

"Indeed!"

"And the daily papers," she added, chuckling.

"Remarkable!"

"I read several English periodicals. I am interested in English politics."

"The deuce!"

"The--what?" she asked, with a suggestion of suppressed mirth in her voice.

"The gentleman with horns."

"Ah, yes," she said. "I have heard something of the gentleman. A very bad-tempered fellow, isn't he? Have you known him long?"

"By George, you think you're funny, don't you?" But by this time he laughed, too.

"Come in, Kenneth," called John Clayton, when they reached the veranda.

"No, I thank you," said Kenneth. "Miss Bright has been abusing men, and Englishmen in particular."

"Well," responded John Clayton laughingly, "you stood up for our s.e.x, I hope."

"I tried to, but Miss Bright came out ahead. Good night, Miss Bright.

I hope you'll change your opinion of the Englishman, and that he will not always suffer when compared with your pink of perfection, the American man."

When he had gone a short distance, she called him back.

"Well?" he said, turning.

"I just wished to remind you that it isn't becoming to you to be grouchy."

"You wretch!" And he turned on his heel and stalked away.

"What's the matter with Kenneth?" asked John Clayton.