Lifted Masks

breathing the dust which the newly fallen had stirred up among its lo

time as her class-day gown. She was to have a roll-top desk-probably of mahogany-and a big chair which whirled round like that in the office of the under-graduate dean. She was to have a little office all by herself, opening on a bigger office-the little one marked "Private." There were to be beautiful rugs-the general effect not u

in a Chicago "publishing house." This was her first morning and she was standing at the window looking

at least a floor, all to itself, simply had a place penned off in a bleak, dirty building such as one who had done work in sociological research instinctively associated with a box factory. And the thing which fairly trailed her visions in the dust was that the partition penning the

feather duster. Several knocks at the table, and the dust of many months-perhaps likewise of many dreams-ascended to a resting place on the endorsement of Dr. Bunting's Kidney and Bladder Cure. He next produced a short, straight-backed chair which she recognised as brother to the one which used to stand behind their kitchen stove. He gave it a shake, th

ner either statesmanlike or clownlike-things were too involved to know which-shuffled in with an armful of yellow paper which he flopped down on the pine table. After a minute he returned

and then the sandy-haired boy appeared bearing a large dictionary, followed by the man in the skull cap behind a dictionary of equal unwieldiness

ed to you the nature of ou

little humourously, and not far fr

gan, blinking at her importantly, "that we ar

n the laugh coming up to meet it, and

other references. The main thing"-his voice sank to an impressive whisper-"is not to infringe the copyright. The publisher was in yesterday and made a little talk to the force

t-neat?" she a

see, but you must modernise and expand. Don't miss any of the good words in either of these dictionaries. Here you have dictionaries, copy-paper, paste, and Professor Lee assures me you have brains-all the necessary ingredients for successful lexicography. We are to have some rules printed to-morrow, and in th

a piece of yellow paper, and set about attempting to commit it to memory. She looked up to be met with the statement that Mrs. Marjory Van Luce De Vane, after spending years under the so-called best surgeons of the country, had been cured in six weeks by Dr. Bunting's Famous Kidney and Bladder Cure. She pushed the dictionaries petulantly from her, and leaning her very red cheek upon her

rince used to have in long-ago dreams. She looked into a face that was dark and thin and-different. Two very dark eyes were looking at her kindly, and a mouth which

as, she liked him. It would have been quite dif

the copyright," she laughed. "I'm not

etree isn't as lucid as he thinks he is. I've been here a we

child-like way it had forgotten to outgrow, her head would nod gleefully in token that she understood, and she had a way of pulling at her wavy hair and making it more wavy than it had been before. The man at the next table was a long time in explaining the making of a dictionary. He spoke in low tones, often looking at the figure of the man in the skull cap, who

away their things it was hard to realise that the morning had gone. It was a new a

ally barren to the time when he too had those easily stirred enthusiasms of youth. For the man at the next table was far from young now. His mouth had never quite parted with boyishness, but there was more white than black in his hair, and the lines about hi

onary place were very old men; she wondered if it would be a good dictionary-one that would be used in the schools; she wondered if Dr. Bunting had made a gr

r stand there very still. He had not heard her come in, and he was looking straight ahead, eyes half closed, mouth set-no unsurrendered boyishness there now. Wholly unconsciously she took an impulsive step forward. But she stopped, for she saw, and felt wit

d brushed back his hair; there was weariness, weariness weary of itself, in the gesture. He looked about the room and scanned the faces of the men, most of them older than he, many of them men whose histories were well known to him. They were the usual hangers on about newspaper offices; men who, for one reason or other-age, dissipation, antiquated methods-had been pitched over, men for whom such work as this came as a godsend.

the peculiar whiteness of a dark face, standing before the bar drinking from a small glass. She stood still, arrested by a look such as she had never seen before: a panting human soul sobbingly fluttering dow

earing away, because her fingers ached, because it tired her back to sit in that horrid chair. She did not a

er queer surroundings made her look around whenever she heard a step behind her. Where was

cap had been showing her something about the copy. As he was leavi

plied grimly, "

asn't, I thought I would take hi

for her-and after tha

looked over at her and smiled. He looked sick and shaken-as if someth

?" she asked, with

replied, rat

rk, laughed together over funny definitions they found. She felt tha

easy to say things to him; there seemed a certain at-homeness between his thought and hers. She accounted for her interest in him by telling herself she had never known any one like that before. Now Harold, the boy whom she knew best out at the university, why one had to say things to Harold to make him understand! And Harold never left one wondering-wondering what he had meant by that sm

all her life had there been a lump in her throat when she thought of Harold. T

im about it. It was hard; it seemed forcing one's way into a room tha

as they were putting away their things that ni

en a little way. "I can't conceive of 'minding' anything you might say to me, Miss Noah,"-

opened a little, "you have been so good to me. Because you ha

he leaned a little closer as though li

to New Mexico and stayed for a year, and when he came back-when he came back he was as well as any o

ft her richer-different. It was a look to light the dark place between two human souls. It seemed for the moment that words would follow it

igh, cheeks hot. For nothing is so hard to hear as that which one has half known, and evaded. One never denies so hotly as in denying to

d scoffed, after telling how brilliant he had been before he "went to pieces"-"why all the cures on earth couldn't help

pillow and sobbed; and she wo

ended in blind, passionate desire to "make it up" to him. And again he was so different fro

nderstood the closed doors. He was-she co

courage-threw this little note over on his desk-they had formed a habit of writ

t the house where she lives-hasn't she already told him where that is? It is the wish of Miss Noah to

late in returning that noon, and though there seemed a new something in his voice when he asked if he hadn't better sharpen her

nspired in Mr. Webster by the kind inv

e, for reasons into which he cannot go in detail, it i

in Mr. Webster by the insinuation that

e most want to do that we must leave undone. Miss Noah, won't you go on bringing me as much of yourself as you can to Dearborn Street, and try not to think much about

how many words she had written that day. She did

and the dictionary

ngs. Life seemed pressing just behind some of those definitions, press

ak through; it flo

l proof she could bring was that he always saw that her overshoes were put in a warm place. And when o

that she was most sure. For some of the most sure t

ey laughed together over funny definitions they found, that he

ar as facts

there-i

force which can laugh at man's institutions and batter over in one sweep what he likes to call his wisdom, was sweeping them on. And because it could get no other recognition it forced its way into the moments

n, and there was really noth

W and Z. Soon they would be at Z;-and then? Then? Shyly she turned and looked at him; he too was bent over his work. When she came

And she felt that she understood. It was the lines in his face made it clearest. Years, and things blacker, less easily surmounted t

; but maidenly is a word love and lif

when she went over for more copy-paper she stood for a minute looking out the window. Even on Dearbo

se beneath the rumble of a printing press she could get the babble of a brook, because Z was

ght lunch tomorrow. All the other Miss Noahs are going to be away, and if Mr. Webst

; she only drank a cup of

m one to two, from two to three, and then very slo

alked down to the lake and was sta

self-fiercely, doggedly. Over

him a little now?-longing had pleaded. And now there was a new voice-more prevailing voice-the voi

s of stepping into the sunlight after long days in fog and cold, dreams of a woman before a fireplace-her arms about him, her cheer and her

e crime was the denial of happiness-his happiness, her happiness; and when at last his fight seemed but a puerile fight

ped into a doorway to gain breath. And after he had gone in there h

e. Facts, the things he knew about himsel

t. For he had vowed that if it took the last nerve in his body there should be no more of that until

took the last bit of force that was in him. He was trem

e little cloak room putting on her

hut, and stood there leaning agains

gasped, and laid a fri

d her fiercely, and between sobs kissed her again and again. He could not let

r. Holding her face in his two hands, looking at her as if getting something to take away, his white lips murmured words too inarticulate f

some athletic affairs over at the university. She wondered why she did not go crazy in l

rk upon the dictionary after that day. And it was rai

ferent since that day. They made small effort to cover

y away that last day. But bot

up at various times for little farewell chats. The man in the skull cap told her that she had done excellent work. She

er on the desk in front. He had finished with his "take.

y his things. And then for a long time there was no soun

ble, and then for a minute he stood there. She wanted to turn toward

e knew, numbly, that his footsteps were not steady. She knew that he had

she hea

nd laid down her pencil. It was finished now-and he had gone.

s what

n of it, not as one learns from dictionaries, but let us learn from the morning glow and the evening shades. But Miss Noah, maker of dictionaries and creeper int

e woman as women were five thousand years ago. Oh, I know all about you-you little girl whose hair tried so hard to be red. Your soul touched mine as we sat there writing words-words-words, the very words in which men try to tell things, and can't-and I know all about what you would do. But you shall not do it. Dear little copy maker, would a man standing out on the end of a

led and pulled at your wavy hair. You said it was such an important definition. And so it is, Miss Noah, quite the most important of all. And on the page of life, Mi

hat will surround you. And sometimes as you sit there let a thought of me come for just a minute, Miss Noah-not long enough nor deep enough to bring you any pain. But only think-I brou

hing I can give you without hurting you,-the hope,

d women; certainly he had not understood her. What he did not know was that she was willing to pay for her happiness-pay-pay any price that might be exacted. And anyw

w very calm. It would be easy to find him, easy to

evator and started out into the now drenching rain toward the elevated trains which would take

going up. They were saying things about the trains, but she did not heed them. But at the to

d not get near them; the rain, the blockade on the "L" had caused a great crowd to congregate there. She waited a long time, getting more and

ely get either a cab or a car. And so she started, staunchly, thou

ave her with him? If he had that thing to fight, did he not need her help? What did men think women were like? Did he think she was one to sit

life and love too great to be lost throug

in, she thought, was making her dizzy. Labouriously she walked on-more s

o the curbing she would fall. She was not thinking so clearly now. The thing which took all of her force was the lifting

eone was speaking her name; speaking

as H

a carriage, and that Harold was talking to her

thing's all right," h

eated, in a whisper, and leaned h

ab with something steaming hot which he told her to drink. "You need it," he

aw things which puzzled her. "Why, it looks like the city

don't you know we have to go through

, holding her throat, "but y

place for you to-night is home.

; she began to cry, and he talked to her, gently but unbendingly. "But

ng in the way he said it made her finally

whole city was piled in between. Great buildings were in between, and thousands of men running to and fro on the streets; man, and al

s and wet feet and a sore throat determine life? Was it that way with other people, too? Did other people have barriers-whole cities full of them-piled in