T^ T V 
 
 Edu)m 
 
 Bateman 
 
 Morris 
 
 I I'i ,' '' '!
 
 THE LAST FADING BANNER OF THE DAY
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 'By 
 EDWIN BATEMAN MORRIS 
 
 Author of "Blue Anchor Inn," 
 "The Millionaire," etc. 
 
 Illustrated by Ralph L. Boyer 
 
 THE PENN PUBLISHING 
 
 COMPANY PHILADELPHIA 
 
 1914
 
 COPYRIGHT 
 1914 BY 
 THE PENN 
 PUBLISHING 
 COMPANY 
 
 Merc Man
 
 Illustrations 
 
 PAGE 
 
 THE LAST FADING BANNER OF THE DAY . Frontispiece 
 HE LOOKED OVER THE WALL ... 42 
 
 " ARE You IN LOVE ? " 124 
 
 SHE THOUGHT ONLY OF HIM . 202 
 
 Mere Man
 
 Mere Man 
 
 CHAPTER I 
 
 MISS JANE HOWELL was conversing. 
 It is a pity to begin a perfectly well- 
 meaning story with a bit of tautology like that, 
 but it is unavoidable. Miss Howell was always 
 conversing. Talking, with her, was a condition, 
 a state of mind, a physical function, like the 
 beating of her heart or the circulation of her 
 blood. As a conversationalist, she was thor- 
 ough. Nothing was left to chance. She left 
 no yearning listener hanging helpless over an 
 abyss of doubt. 
 
 If she mentioned casually that her father had 
 once been postmaster in the little town of Judas 
 Iscariot, Arizona, she did not leave that bare, 
 barren fact to rest on the unsatisfied mind, for- 
 
 9
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 ever a thorn and a matter of uncertainty. Her 
 frank nature led her to tell why he was the 
 postmaster of that particular town, and what 
 he said on the day of his appointment, and 
 what his wife said and his brothers and his 
 sisters and his aunts and his cousin in Pennsyl- 
 vania. In the end the story she was telling 
 was a complete work of reference, and if prop- 
 erly edited and printed would have consisted 
 of about two lines of text per page and the re- 
 mainder of exhaustive foot-notes. The word 
 exhaustive is used advisedly. 
 
 Such conversation required concentration. 
 The chime of plates at Mrs. Prouty's boarding- 
 house, the manceuvers of the vegetable dishes 
 marching and countermarching and crisscross- 
 ing over the table, passed by nimble hands 
 grown used to such legerdemain, disturbed 
 Miss Howell not in the least. Her mind was 
 on the seriousness of her task. She was ob- 
 livious to such small things. 
 
 " Tea or milk, Miss Howell ? " demanded 
 
 Mrs. Prouty, wedging in the question at the 
 
 10
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 point of the former lady's remarks where there 
 should have been a comma. 
 
 " Coffee, please," Miss Howell replies, feeling 
 herself addressed, not pausing an instant. Her 
 story marches on. 
 
 " And no one," she said, " supposed they 
 would do it. People have talked about it, cer- 
 tainly, just as they have talked about breaking 
 windows and burning houses and pouring ink 
 in the letter boxes. Though what I can't un- 
 derstand is why the women don't get caught 
 doing such daring things as they do in Eng- 
 land. Some people say that is a proof of the 
 superior intelligence of women over " 
 
 " Now, Miss Howell," observed young Mr. 
 Derry, " you are talking woman's suffrage, I 
 know. Don't try to pretend you are not." 
 
 The lady laughed in the helpless way she 
 had when she felt she was being teased. But 
 the gulf between earnestness and frivolity was 
 one she could not leap across at so short notice. 
 
 " Of course I'm talking woman's suffrage," 
 
 she exclaimed, stoutly. " What else should I 
 
 ii
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 talk about to-day ? Why, a friend I met on 
 the street said there were three thousand 
 women outside the hall who couldn't get in. 
 You know this was the final day of the Equal 
 Suffrage Convention. Of course you read 
 about it in the papers. And what happened 
 this afternoon is going to revolutionize every- 
 thing. The action of the militants in England 
 doesn't compare with it in effectiveness. I 
 really think the women have solved the ques- 
 tion at last." 
 
 " I'm all impatience," cried Mr. Derry. 
 " What did they do ? Willy, urge the potatoes 
 this way, please." 
 
 "This friend of mine says who was there 
 right in the hall" she began, by way of reply 
 " that the principal speaker of the afternoon, 
 this Mrs. now what is her name ? I thought 
 I had it right on the tip of my tongue." She 
 waved her hand up and down helplessly. 
 "You know, the woman who helped in the 
 shirt-waist strike. It seems to me her name 
 began with B. Oh, pshaw 1 " 
 
 12
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 " Never mind the name," suggested Mrs. 
 Prouty, wisely. " We are all waiting to hear 
 your story." 
 
 " I almost had it then. It is a short name." 
 
 " Brown ? " suggested Mr. Derry, at random. 
 
 " No." 
 
 " Barker ? " offered some one. 
 
 Miss Howell smiled. 
 
 " Barker," she cried, elated at having run 
 this fact to earth. " Now let me see. Where 
 was I? Oh, yes. Well, this friend of mine 
 said that Mrs. Barker made a very impressive 
 speech. She is absolutely beautiful and wears 
 the most expensive clothes, and, when she talks, 
 every one goes wild. She had on a blue net 
 dress over crepe de chine with real lace at the 
 wrist and throat, and only one piece of jewelry, 
 an amethyst pin set in diamonds. She is the 
 one who advocates that all women in the 
 country refuse to marry until the men grant 
 them the ballot. She says that will bring 
 them to terms quicker than anything else. 
 And she proposes to tour the country from now 
 
 13
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 on getting as many women as possible to sign 
 the pledge of celibacy refusing absolutely to 
 marry any man." 
 
 " Yes," said Mr. Derry, patiently, " and what 
 happened this afternoon ? " 
 
 "She started her crusade," cried Miss Howell, 
 " and three hundred Washington women signed 
 their names ! " 
 
 Mr. Derry held his head in his hands. 
 
 " What chance is there for me ? " he moaned. 
 
 A girl entered the room and drew out the 
 chair between the two speakers. 
 
 "What's the matter?" she asked, adjusting 
 the already faultless lace that hung below her 
 throat. 
 
 Miss Howell reached out her hand and laid it 
 on the girl's arm. 
 
 " I was telling them about the action of the 
 convention this afternoon." 
 
 The newcomer nodded. 
 
 " You know about it ? " cried the other, 
 eagerly. 
 
 " Yes, I was there." 
 
 14
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 A gentleman across the table who was called 
 the " Colonel " cleared his throat. 
 
 " Miss Carver," he said, addressing the new- 
 comer, " I have listened with great attention to 
 Miss Howell's statement as to the action of the 
 convention, and I want to ask you frankly, as a 
 woman of reason, what you think of such a 
 thing ? " 
 
 "Am I a woman of reason?" asked the girl. 
 
 " Of course you are," asserted the Colonel, 
 warmly. 
 
 " And of infinite beauty," observed Mr. Derry, 
 industriously stirring his coffee. 
 
 The girl gazed at the back of the young 
 man's averted head. She laughed outright. 
 
 " That frivolous young man," said the 
 Colonel, " has unwittingly stumbled upon the 
 very line of argument I wish to pursue. I 
 maintain that those three hundred women who 
 refused to marry until women are allowed to 
 vote are three hundred women who could not 
 get married if they wanted to. A handsome, 
 bright young woman like you if you will 
 
 15
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 excuse an old man for saying so who could 
 have her choice of any one in the whole 
 United States, wouldn't have signed that 
 paper." 
 
 The color deepened on Miss Carver's face. 
 
 " In a moment, Colonel," she said, " I am 
 going to blush with confusion." 
 
 " The Colonel is right," asserted Derry ; " it's 
 just a lot of the old standbys who have been on 
 hand for the past forty years that agreed not to 
 get married. Of course they agreed. They 
 had to. The idea had been wished on them 
 years ago." 
 
 Miss Carver bent over her plate and smiled. 
 
 " I should like your frank and unbiased 
 opinion, Miss Carver," pursued the Colonel. 
 " I know you have said you favored woman's 
 suffrage. But do you honestly think that any 
 young, beautiful woman with a chance to get 
 married would have signed that paper ? " 
 
 " I'd like to hear your opinion on that too," 
 exclaimed the young man beside her. 
 
 " Come now," cried the Colonel. 
 16
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 Miss Carver looked up, and her eyes shone 
 mischievously. 
 
 " I'm embarrassed at having to say this," she 
 observed, " but did you say I was ahem 
 young and beautiful and probably marriage- 
 able ? " 
 
 " I most certainly did," asseverated the 
 Colonel. 
 
 " Well," she said, " I signed the paper."
 
 CHAPTER II 
 
 IN the third floor rear room of Mrs. Prouty's 
 boarding-house, which Deborah Carver oc- 
 cupied but which Miss Howell, abiding theoret- 
 ically in the room adjoining, used as an overflow 
 for herself, her clothes and her conversation, the 
 latter was making preparations to go out. If 
 Deborah Carver had intended to go out on that 
 mild September evening, she would simply 
 have put on her hat, taken her gloves and de- 
 parted. But not so Miss Howell. She had 
 spent half an hour already trying the effect of 
 several different waists upon herself, each change 
 of scene requiring a complete removal and 
 substitution of more of the beribboned and 
 belaced strata that lay underneath. She was 
 not really satisfied now, for the last shirt-waist 
 showed the mark of the iron in an obscure 
 
 place ; but there was no time to change again, 
 
 18
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 and seizing her white lisle gloves, she left the 
 room. Deborah, reading in a big comfortable 
 chair, smiled and wondered if she had really gone. 
 She returned almost immediately, completely out 
 of breath from running up the stairs, saying that 
 she had forgotten to put on suitable evening 
 shoes. And then, after she had returned once 
 more, because both the gloves she had were for 
 the right hand, and again for an umbrella, be- 
 cause the paper had said there might be rain 
 that night or the next day, she was finally 
 gone. 
 
 Deborah stretched out her arms lazily, and 
 throwing her book on the bed walked to the 
 window where she could look out over the vista 
 of other people's back yards, commanded ap- 
 parently by a myriad of other third floor back 
 windows, where she knew lived workers in the 
 hive like herself. But no face appeared any- 
 where. The still, hot night had driven them 
 all out to their separate diversions to the cool 
 joy of the open street cars, or to the hot, but 
 exciting interior of the stock company theatre, 
 
 19
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 or to the dance halls. It seemed as if she were 
 the only human looking out upon that hollow 
 square of houses. The air in her room was hot 
 and still. With the falling of the dusk, the ex- 
 citement of the day had left her, and in its place 
 hung about her a slight, intangible melancholy, 
 such as comes to any one who suddenly realizes 
 she is twenty-six. 
 
 When one is ten, twenty-six seems like a ripe 
 old age ; when one is fifteen it seems like a point 
 when one's destination in life will have been 
 decided on, when the ship will have left port 
 under full steam with the course plotted on the 
 chart. If one is to be married, it will have been 
 done by then. If she is to succeed in some fine 
 pursuit that is to enrich the world, the indica- 
 tion of that success will have begun to appear. 
 But, for Deborah, twenty-six had come and 
 passed, and neither of these things had hap- 
 pened. Her ship still lay at the dock. 
 
 She turned away from the window, where the 
 clatter of dishes and the odor of kitchen rose 
 
 from below. She wondered if moving the trap- 
 
 20
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 door in the ceiling of the room would afford an 
 outlet for the heated, heavy air that surrounded 
 her. She attempted to dislodge it with a cur- 
 tain pole, and this proving ineffectual, she de- 
 corously closed the door and presently the 
 bureau was surprised to find a pair of white 
 shod feet resting where the pincushion ought 
 to have been. From this point of vantage she 
 was able to reach the wooden trap and slide it 
 back from its position. Above, all was dark 
 and exuded the heat of a bake-oven. But the 
 spirit of adventure was upon her. 
 
 Of course, no dignified, aged woman of 
 twenty-six should have done it. It was an 
 anachronism. It was the thing she would have 
 done twelve years ago and been spanked as 
 a result for being a tomboy, no doubt. She 
 smiled as she thought of it. At least there was 
 no one to spank her now. She caught hold of 
 the sides of the opening and her strong young 
 arms drew her up into the cavern. What must 
 Mrs. Prouty have thought had she appeared 
 
 then and seen the two feet of an angel, clad in 
 
 21
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 pumps and silk stockings, disappearing heaven- 
 ward from the third floor back room just like 
 Mr. Forbes Robertson in the play ! 
 
 But no Mrs. Prouty or other deputy Nemesis 
 appeared. It was dusty in the regions above, 
 and not very beneficial to white summer clothes. 
 But a short ladder led upward, at the top of 
 which was another trap, fastened with a rusty 
 hook. And when that was finally forced open, 
 there was the moon shining in the sky. 
 
 She stepped out on the pebbly roof. It was 
 an enchanted garden she stood in. Two long 
 lines of brick parapet bounded her in, like 
 parterres of closely trimmed hedge. The heads 
 of the sidewalk trees protruded above it and 
 sometimes lapped over, their leaves rustling in 
 a pastoral whisper. The moon shone pleas- 
 antly in the sky above. In the distance the 
 search-light from a hotel roof-garden rested on 
 the obelisk of the Monument. Turning to the 
 other side she saw far off the great dome of the 
 Capitol a silver thimble in the moonlight. 
 
 She might have been some pre-Renaissance 
 
 22
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 Roman duchess leaning on the white marble 
 balustrade of her formal garden. 
 
 All this suggested a metaphor to her. She 
 had once been asked to make a street corner 
 speech in favor of woman suffrage, and she had 
 refused, partly because she had no very con- 
 vincing public argument and partly because, as 
 she had said laughing, she "was not man 
 enough." She thought now if she ever had to 
 make that speech, she might compare her 
 room, stuffy, hot, and shut-in to the condition 
 of the voteless woman and her emergence out 
 into the free, pure air with the glory of the soft 
 night about her to the bursting forth of woman 
 from her cell and chains of bondage she 
 smiled as she thought of those well-worn 
 phrases into freedom and power and her 
 rightful prerogative. 
 
 Of course she could make a speech if she 
 wanted to. The suffrage held out no apparent 
 advantages to her personally. She had no 
 selfish interest in it. Its appeal was an ethical 
 
 one that roused her enthusiasm. The propa- 
 
 23
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 ganda was an uplifting effort for the whole 
 body of women. She could not help compar- 
 ing it to great movements like the Reformation 
 and the Renaissance and when she put her 
 determined shoulder to the wheel, she felt that 
 she was revolving it in a way to make history 
 to accomplish something lasting and worth 
 while. It seemed as if this were a new Re- 
 naissance an awakening of woman a burst- 
 ing forth out of mediaeval darkness into light. 
 
 She was willing to devote her life, now passed 
 the mark where she should have picked out her 
 sphere of usefulness, to such a deserving cause ; 
 to march to the crusades, carrying a spear that 
 should help in the beginning of a new era for 
 woman. Her enthusiasm and her conscience, 
 stung by what her body had not accomplished, 
 drove her on. Following the dictates of the 
 latter, with the fortitude of Spartan women, she 
 had offered up the thing most dear to her, and 
 taken a vow of celibacy. She, Deborah Carver, 
 had doomed herself to be an old maid for a 
 principle. 
 
 24
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 She laughed and looked over the parapet 
 into the lighted room of a wing below her 
 where a dark-haired young man, in his third 
 floor room, bent over his desk. That young 
 man, whoever he might be, and every other 
 man, henceforth had no interest for her. She 
 might lean over the parapet as she did now, 
 and look at him, like Moses viewing the prom- 
 ised land, but she must not endeavor to possess 
 him. He seemed to be a nice person. She 
 was interested in the slim fingers which held 
 the papers he read. His room was furnished 
 more luxuriously than most third floor rooms. 
 The flat-topped desk in the middle of the room 
 where he sat was of mahogany. A brass drop 
 light with a garnet shade sat on the desk. The 
 rug caught the light like a real oriental rug, 
 and the pictures and hangings on the walls 
 spoke of a height of ease and comfort to which 
 the average boarding house did not aspire. 
 She gazed at the Promised Land with much 
 interest, speculating idly as to what he might 
 be doing, until presently the Promised Land 
 
 25
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 rose, slapped his hat on his head and turned 
 out the light. She was alone then on her 
 broad white roof with the moon and the stars. 
 
 She had always felt that one day she should 
 be married. Her instincts and emotions all led 
 her that way. Her life in her school brought 
 her always in contact with children, whom she 
 understood and guarded and sympathized with 
 by virtue of some instinct within her. She had 
 the hovering wings of a mother. Yet she had 
 seen no man whom she would marry. 
 
 She often found herself being terribly excited 
 over Bobby Mitchell for five minutes at a 
 time. But then she realized he was pursuing 
 her and saw love and devotion in his eyes and 
 immediately became bored. She liked his 
 automobile, for that made her go fast and pro- 
 vided her with excitement. But the man who 
 was to possess her must control her with an 
 iron hand. He must be a man to whom, when 
 she was tired of struggling to arrange her life, 
 she could turn over the reins and let him drive. 
 
 Whereas she controlled Bobby Mitchell and 
 
 26
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 he was merely typical of them all with more 
 ease than Bobby controlled the big car which 
 responded immediately to his touch on the 
 lever. 
 
 She heard the newsboys on the street below 
 crying an extra paper, and when she descended 
 from her roof she purchased one. It contained 
 a list of the women who had signed the celibacy 
 pact. There was her own name near the top. 
 She snipped it out with her scissors and impaled 
 it upon her pincushion. 
 
 " Lest we forget," she said, smiling, and un- 
 did the fastening at her throat. 
 
 27
 
 CHAPTER III 
 
 nice, hot sun caressed the street until 
 the weary asphalt sank under your feet. 
 Deborah walked along in the narrow shade of 
 the buildings, aimlessly gazing into their show 
 windows. Her work over for the day there re- 
 mained no place to go but her room at Mrs. 
 Prouty's a place which she religiously avoided 
 when it was not absolutely necessary for her to 
 go there. People, when their work is over, like 
 to go home and find comfort and cheer in sur- 
 roundings that are familiar to them. But if 
 you have to climb two flights of stairs to get to 
 your home, and it is only twelve feet by fifteen 
 when you arrive, and has the same dejected 
 appearance that it had when you left, it holds 
 out few inducements. Deborah did not go 
 home. 
 
 Filled with notions of clothes for the fall, she 
 
 slipped with easy nonchalance into an ornate 
 
 28
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 shop and wandered about until she found long 
 glass cases in which were expensive gowns 
 " creations," they called them in that store 
 fashioned out of bewilderingly soft and costly 
 fabrics which were draped and turned and 
 tortured into the very newest designs. It 
 was an education to any one who in a few 
 weeks would have to make her own fall 
 dresses both of them. She looked these over 
 carefully and made copious mental notes. But 
 one of the duchesses of the place, observing the 
 desecration of the hallowed spot where stood 
 only those with money in their purses who came 
 to purchase, bore down upon her with haughty 
 disdain. 
 
 " Did you wish to see something ? " she said, 
 loftily. 
 
 Deborah looked clear through the disdain. 
 She smiled pleasantly. 
 
 " That smoke-colored one does it hook up 
 the back ? " 
 
 " I don't know. Were you looking for an 
 
 evening dress ? " 
 
 29
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 The other laughed a soft, low laugh. 
 
 " Not I," she said, turning to the girl. " But 
 wouldn't you like to have one like that made of 
 challis ? The material wouldn't cost more than 
 three dollars." 
 
 Deborah was thoroughly interested in her 
 scheme. The salesgirl's face lit up for a mo- 
 ment at the idea. That small second of warmth 
 volatilized her aloofness and it floated off into 
 thin air. After that it was impossible to climb 
 back into the strategic position she had occupied 
 before. 
 
 " I think I'll do it for myself," she said. She 
 looked about her guardedly. " Would you like 
 to see the dress ? " 
 
 " Of course I should like to see it." 
 
 The dress, rustling with tissue paper, came 
 down from its place, and the two alert vivisec- 
 tionists noted its anatomy and physiology. In 
 the course of this the sales duchess, recognizing 
 a certain unmistakable humanity in Deborah, 
 was divulging the fact that it was only two 
 weeks before the such and such dance, for which 
 
 30
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 she must have a dress. And, never doubting her 
 companion's interest in the matter, she spoke of 
 men with a sparkle in her eyes of one in the 
 midst of the game. When Deborah caught 
 that look of enthusiasm, accustomed and 
 hardened as she was to the confidences of chance 
 people, a lump of lead seemed to drop, uninvited 
 and unexpected, into her heart. For that was 
 the enthusiasm that was now denied to her. 
 Her interest in the dresses soon waned. 
 Presently she gathered up her bag and gloves 
 and, thanking the girl, went out into the street 
 again. 
 
 The lump of lead was still in the same place. 
 She decided to walk to the headquarters of the 
 Equal Suffrage Association and leave it there if 
 possible. Mrs. Dobson, secretary of the associa- 
 tion and chairman of a thousand committees 
 and sub-committees, bounced up from her desk 
 and embraced her when she entered. Deborah 
 adjusted her hat and attire. 
 
 " Sit down," cried Mrs. Dobson. 
 
 Mrs. Dobson herself never sat down. Some-
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 times she perched for an instant on the edge 
 of her swivel chair. But most of the time she 
 was darting about like the squirrels in the park. 
 
 " My dear, I am so glad you are with us," 
 she said, running her nimble fingers over a 
 card-catalogue drawer and pulling out a card. 
 
 " I think it's my duty I think it is every 
 one's duty to help in every way possible," 
 Deborah replied, stoutly. 
 
 Mrs. Dobson pounced on the fountain pen 
 that lay on her desk. 
 
 " It's the example that counts," she exclaimed, 
 adding some notation on her card. " It's the 
 example of noble self-sacrifice. That's the 
 spirit that is going to win." 
 
 She held her pen in her mouth and ran through 
 another card index, descending upon the proper 
 card and tattooing it with more hieroglyphics 
 which only she could read. 
 
 " What's that card index for ? " demanded the 
 girl. 
 
 " Congressional. We have all the congress- 
 men written up, showing just where they stand 
 
 32
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 on the question." She pulled out a card. 
 " There is the man to beware of," she com- 
 mented. " He is our most astute foe." 
 
 " John Marshall Lea." 
 
 " The same," she repeated, tartly. " Remem- 
 ber that name as of the Black Douglas. He 
 has done more to block legislation favorable to 
 us than any five other men in the House. He 
 is the man who is going to oppose most bitterly 
 the bill for an equal suffrage amendment in the 
 House of Representatives when we bring the 
 question before a committee of the House in 
 November. If I can beat him I shall consider 
 that I have gone a long way toward winning 
 the whole fight." 
 
 "Very well, Mother Dobson." The girl 
 laughed. " Do you realize you've wasted a 
 whole minute of your precious time standing 
 still?" 
 
 " Bless me, so I have." She looked at the 
 clock and took the receiver off the hook of her 
 telephone. " Don't go. I can talk to you and 
 telephone at the same time." 
 
 33
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 " I believe you could," observed Deborah. 
 
 " Remember," cried Mrs. Dobson, " we are 
 going to ask you to make some speeches for us 
 soon." 
 
 A chill crept gently over Deborah. She saw 
 herself standing on a soap-box, rising to ad- 
 dress a roaring, turbulent, out-of-doors crowd. 
 Could she bring herself to do it ? She thought 
 she would infinitely prefer to stand in front of 
 the Capitol in a pillory. Her impulse was to 
 tell Mrs. Dobson so and warn that lady not to 
 count upon her. But she did nothing of the 
 sort. She sat with her hands calmly folded 
 before her, telling herself that all great move- 
 ments must be accomplished by a series of 
 sacrifices, and that she would not be the one to 
 refuse when her turn came. And all she said 
 was, " Very well, Mrs. Dobson," quite calmly 
 and pleasantly. 
 
 She did not leave all her low spirits behind 
 her as she had hoped. And when dusk fell 
 again, she was once more sitting in her room 
 full of the realization that she was twenty-six 
 
 34
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 and trying to forget the idea by reading a 
 funny story. But who can forget so far-reach- 
 ing a calamity as that in a mere story ? As it 
 grew too dark to read, she let the book fall idly 
 into her lap and watched the scarlet moon rise 
 over the housetops, silhouetting the chimneys 
 and dormers and the wooden rails of the apart- 
 ment house porches. A soft after-glow spread 
 like a rose haze over all that open square, 
 transforming with a magic touch the box-clut- 
 tered yards, and turning the whole scene, sordid 
 with its kitchens and scullery maids, into a soft 
 evening picture. She leaned against the 
 window frame and watched the light gently 
 fade. She wondered what that scene looked 
 like from her roof, and gazed speculatively at 
 the trap in the ceiling. A trap it was indeed. 
 The lure of it held her lightly in its grasp. It 
 was like Aladdin's lamp to her. She had but 
 to touch it, and she was wafted away from her 
 fifteen-dollar room to priceless Elysian fields. 
 The door softly closed, two shoes left their im- 
 press on the bureau scarf, and, with the rustle 
 
 35
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 of no wings, a white clad angel had disap- 
 peared heavenward. 
 
 To guide her in her return through the dark 
 attic, she had brought her tiny electric flash- 
 light. Virgil, or one of those old fellows who 
 knew nothing about attics, said " Facilis est 
 descensus in Averno," but the descent from 
 the roof into the darkness of this particular 
 Averno was anything but easy. So she 
 slipped the little nickel thing into her belt. 
 She stepped out on the roof, and went to the 
 parapet wall. 
 
 In the west, behind the square jagged sky- 
 line, shone a narrow ribbon of deep red drawn 
 across the heavy purple of the sky. That was 
 the last fading banner of the day. The city 
 had given itself over to night. Haphazard 
 squares of light appeared on the distant office 
 buildings. Restless electric signs told their 
 story over and over again. She saw the mov- 
 ing picture theatre at the street corner, blaz- 
 ingly alight, receive its throng of people like an 
 ant-hill. But on the roof there was almost no 
 
 36
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 sign of artificial night. The moon shone in 
 pastoral quiet. The trees hanging over the 
 parapet wall were like willows hanging over 
 the banks of a stream. And in the midst of 
 their thick foliage she imagined she could see 
 the figure of a lurking man, just as one does in 
 country fields at night, when all around villain- 
 ous pine trees lie in wait to murder one and 
 steal his purse. 
 
 She gazed over the top of the rear wall at 
 the window where she had seen the man the 
 night before, but all was dark there. The 
 moon shone in on the floor, illuminating a 
 small square of the Eastern rug, but no other 
 thing was visible. She walked along the 
 length of the roof, stepping over the ridges of 
 brick wall that protruded above its level, in 
 accordance with the fire regulations, at the line 
 of demarkation of each house. She gazed 
 down into unfamiliar side yards, into window- 
 boxes filled with ferns, into rooms where people 
 were surreptitiously cooking things over the gas 
 burners, and into a window by which a woman 
 
 37
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 sat shame on her in this modern day rock- 
 ing her baby to sleep. 
 
 And as Deborah turned back by the thick 
 foliage where she had thought she saw the 
 figure of a man she started and stood still. 
 
 The imaginary figure of a man was holding 
 a lighted cigarette 1
 
 CHAPTER IV 
 
 DEBORAH was properly frightened. The 
 surprise of it made her suddenly weak at 
 the knees. She felt as she did in dreams when 
 she was half-way up the stairs with a murder- 
 ous robber pursuing her, and her feet refused 
 to move. But only for an instant. Then she 
 turned for the trap-door, miles away. All 
 would have been well had not the nickel-plated 
 electric flash-light notoriously undependable ! 
 slipped from her belt and fallen on the roof. 
 That spoiled everything. She could not hope 
 to clamber safely down the steep, dark ladder 
 to her home with this fleet-footed man pursu- 
 ing her. She stooped to recover her light. 
 But it had fallen in the shadow of a projecting 
 ridge of brick wall and would not be found. 
 She heard the footsteps approaching. Then 
 she straightened up, her eyes flashing a tower 
 
 39
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 of strength and independence. The man was 
 upon her. She could hear her heart beating. 
 He raised his hand. " Will he strike me ? " she 
 thought, dully. But he only took off his hat. 
 He spoke. His voice was suave and dignified. 
 
 " I must apologize," he said, gravely. " I 
 know I frightened you, but I really did not see 
 you in time to give you warning of my pres- 
 ence." 
 
 Deborah murmured something in reply. 
 
 "You have lost your your powder-puff," 
 said the man, still with the same gravity. 
 
 " It was an electric flash-light," she informed 
 him. 
 
 He bent over and scanned the pebbled sur- 
 face of the roof. 
 
 " Naturally," he replied, whimsically. " Part 
 of the regular equipment of the wise virgin of 
 biblical times." 
 
 He spoke in a pleasant, easy, bantering tone, 
 and yet with a very dignified courtesy, as 
 though he were endeavoring to tacitly reassure 
 
 her of his thorough harmlessness. 
 
 40
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 Presently his hand struck the trinket, and he 
 stood up abruptly holding it behind him. 
 
 " Those pebbles run into a fellow's knees like 
 fun," he exclaimed. " I shan't be able to say 
 my prayers for a week. Would you be able to 
 identify this article?" 
 
 " Certainly. It is nickel-plated." 
 
 " Yes. Proceed." 
 
 " By pressing a button at the side of it, it 
 lights." 
 
 He fumbled with it, and suddenly as his 
 finger touched the proper spot, a beam of white 
 light shot across the roof. 
 
 " Your description is astoundingly exact," he 
 said. " Without a doubt the jeweled thing is 
 yours." 
 
 He handed it to her. 
 
 " I am exceedingly obliged," she assured him. 
 
 He bowed. She noticed in the moonlight 
 that his fingers were long and slender. His 
 hair was brown. 
 
 " Oh," she cried, naively, " you are the man 
 with the red lamp-shade."
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 " The very man," he said. " I have inad- 
 vertently forgotten to bring it with me to-night. 
 But it is fragile and apt to be broken climbing 
 up steep ladders." 
 
 She smiled. 
 
 " The man with the red shade," he repeated. 
 " A truly romantic soul. How did you know 
 of my existence?" he asked, abruptly. 
 
 " Last night," she confessed, " I peeped into 
 your room." 
 
 He laughed. 
 
 " From that spot over there," she said, point- 
 ing, " it is possible to see." 
 
 " By all means let's go there then," he ex- 
 claimed. " I should see myself as others see me." 
 
 He looked over the wall. 
 
 " An absolute blank I " he cried. " Ah, my- 
 self ! " he observed, apostrophizing the dark 
 window. " I have discovered you. Nothing 
 at all ! " 
 
 She leaned on the wall. 
 
 " Do you believe that about yourself ? " she 
 
 asked, curiously. 
 
 42
 
 HE LOOKED OVER THE WALL
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 " Not at all," he affirmed, stoutly. 
 
 He turned his back on his room and thrust- 
 ing his hands in his pockets, leaned with his 
 elbows on the wall. 
 
 " In considering yourself," he said, with a 
 pleasant air of thinking aloud, " you must for- 
 get that you have a sense of humor. Of course 
 you are ridiculously inadequate. Everybody 
 is. But take yourself seriously. Have confi- 
 dence in your ability to accomplish the impos- 
 sible." He thumped himself on the chest. 
 " That's the way I give myself courage," he 
 said, thoughtfully. 
 
 " You have almost the air of an orator," she 
 murmured, presently. 
 
 He smiled. 
 
 " I hope you will excuse me." 
 
 She turned away from the wall. 
 
 " It is getting late, I am afraid," she said. 
 
 He stood beside her. 
 
 "May I escort you to your trap-door; or 
 shall I call a cab?" 
 
 She looked about her thoughtfully. 
 43
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 " It's such a fine night," she said. " Suppose 
 we walk." 
 
 At the door leading down to the depths of 
 her own house she paused. 
 
 "You were speaking of speeches," she ob- 
 served. " Would you make a speech ? If you 
 were I?" 
 
 " Right now. Of course. Stand on the closed 
 trap-door, and I will sit cross-legged before you." 
 
 " No, no," she said, smiling. " At some fu- 
 ture date. A public speech." 
 
 " If I wanted to." 
 
 " But I shouldn't know how." 
 
 He looked at her quizzically. 
 
 " The old manner is best," he exclaimed. 
 "Hair brushed abruptly back from the fore- 
 head as in the portraits of Webster. The left 
 hand should be thrust under the skirts of the 
 coat do women wear coats in making 
 speeches? Of course they do. The right 
 hand toying with the fob of one's watch, ex- 
 cept when gesticulating. And refer to the 
 sanctity of the hearth." 
 
 44
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 " You are not serious," she said. 
 
 "No," he replied, instantly grave. "I am 
 not. About the speech, you are the only one 
 who can tell." 
 
 She held out her hand to him. 
 
 " Good-night," she said, " and thank you." 
 
 He bowed over her hand. 
 
 " You must let me light you down the first 
 stage of your journey," he observed, taking her 
 light and illuminating the ladder to the attic. 
 
 She permitted him to do this. She reached 
 up for the light, smiling. 
 
 " Now please run. You must not view this 
 next contortion." 
 
 " I run," he said. 
 
 45
 
 CHAPTER V 
 
 THE first cold days of October had come. 
 Football colors decked the town. The 
 white and yellow badges of the Suffragists ap- 
 peared here and there on the streets. Speech- 
 making for " The Cause " had begun on the 
 broad avenue that connects the White House 
 with the Capitol, or, more correctly, that sep- 
 arates the two. Deborah Carver was ap- 
 proached seriously for this purpose. 
 
 "You must," announced Mrs. Dobson, 
 "really you must. It is your duty. Good 
 looks hold attention. We need you." 
 
 She threw down the telephone book she was 
 consulting, and, seized with a galvanic impulse, 
 strode across the room and caught the girl by 
 the lapels of her coat. 
 
 " I'll hold you right here," she said, " until 
 you say yes." 
 
 Deborah looked at the whirlwind lady. In 
 46
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 spite of the terror in her heart a disturbing ex- 
 citement seized her. 
 
 " But what could I talk about ? " she asked, 
 breathlessly. 
 
 " About the eternal stars, if you like. Only 
 talk." 
 
 " But I must say something." 
 
 The old lady released her and darted over to 
 her chair, perching momentarily on the edge of it. 
 
 "Talk of this iniquitous Lea," she cried. 
 " Speak of these fat, waddling congressmen, 
 with moist hands and moist collars and celluloid 
 cuffs." 
 
 There was no inspiration in this. 
 
 " Is that the sort of person he is ? " she asked, 
 dully. 
 
 " Aren't they all that way all those that op- 
 pose us, I mean?" she added, smiling. She 
 pulled down her gold-rimmed spectacles from 
 the place where they rested against her gray- 
 black hair. 
 
 " Listen I " she cried, taking a book from the 
 shelf behind her. "Saturday the twelfth, six 
 
 47
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 thirty o'clock. What could be fairer ? " She 
 wrote a hasty scrawl on the book. " See Mrs. 
 Devine. She arranges these things." 
 
 Deborah drew in her breath sharply, as 
 though she had plunged into cold water. But 
 an enthusiasm, a realization of new responsi- 
 bility, and a youthful appreciation of action 
 brought a flush to her face. 
 
 " I'm game 1 " she said, steadily. " I sup- 
 pose no one likes to make these speeches." 
 
 Mrs. Dobson reached for her telephone and 
 gave a number. 
 
 41 Like it ! " she cried. " They hate it. They 
 do it because they think it is their duty. 
 They're martyrs, bless their souls! Mrs. 
 Devine," she said on the telephone, " Deborah 
 Carver will speak at one of your street corner 
 meetings next Saturday." 
 
 And thus was her doom sealed. 
 
 " Mrs. Devine is a feather-head," volunteered 
 Mrs. Dobson, " but she has a large automobile 
 and infinite leisure. She is the most valuable 
 
 bit of machinery of my office." 
 
 48
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 Deborah dated her life, following this inter- 
 view, up to Saturday the twelfth of October. 
 There was no beyond. Sunday morning had 
 that same dim, shadowy inconsequence to her 
 that it would have had if on Saturday night 
 she were going to be merely hanged instead of 
 to make the street corner speech. 
 
 Saturday at noon, Mrs. Devine sent Robert, 
 her chauffeur, in the machine for Deborah, to 
 bring her to lunch. Mrs. Devine was not there 
 when she arrived, but the maid said she would 
 return shortly. She sat in the library playing 
 with the little Pomeranian and wishing it were 
 midnight and the day were over. In spite of 
 the fact that the fire of battle was in her, she 
 could not help shrinking from this un- 
 known conflict. She knew exactly the ideas 
 she would talk about, and she knew that she 
 could have made her speech very readily to an 
 audience of quiet people in that library where 
 she sat. But what sort of people were these to 
 be to whom she was to speak ? 
 
 Mrs. Devine rustled in. 
 49
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 " Oh, my dear, not that solemn expression. 
 Be blithe, be blithe ! See the spirit of Chris- 
 tobel here. Christobel, do you believe in 
 Woman's Suffrage ? " 
 
 Christobel crawled under a table. 
 
 " Christobel 1 At once ! Attend to me ! 
 Do you believe in Woman's Suffrage ? " 
 
 The dog, seeing the futility of it, emerged, 
 stood up on his hind feet, waved the front ones 
 in the air and barked vigorously. 
 
 " See," exclaimed his mistress, " how the 
 movement has spread." 
 
 " How did you happen to be a suffragist, 
 Mrs. Devine?" Deborah asked, feeling she 
 must say something. 
 
 "First I started taking cold baths and then 
 I got to sleeping out-of-doors, and after that I 
 just naturally drifted into the other. Come out 
 to lunch, won't you ? 
 
 " You see," she pattered on, "all these things 
 are the things women are doing now. I want 
 to be modern. This idea of the woman's intel- 
 lect being equal to the man's appeals to me. 
 
 50
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 I have gone so far now that I don't grant man 
 or masculinity superiority in anything. I 
 feel that my mind is the equal of any one's. 
 Don't you feel that way ? " 
 
 "Oh, I 1" exclaimed Deborah, with a 
 
 start. " I have always thought that. I have 
 never believed any one was wiser or more re- 
 sourceful than I. That is a sin of mine." 
 
 " Really ! Now I don't go so far as that 
 at all. When a sturdy, strong-willed person 
 like Mrs. Dobson tells me to do a thing, I just 
 do it. I could never struggle against her." 
 
 "Yes," said Deborah, politely. "When I 
 find a man a person, I mean who makes me 
 feel like that," she added presently, " I shall 
 have come to an epoch in my life." 
 
 At six o'clock the lighted streets were crowded 
 with people. There had been a football game, 
 and victorious students surged along the side- 
 walks. Saturday night crowds with money in 
 their purses mingled with them. As Mrs. 
 Devine's automobile, with four ardent suffra- 
 gists and Deborah sped along the street,
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 Deborah steeled her heart. She was not 
 ardent. She was determined. She sat back 
 in the corner of her seat, her hands folded in 
 her lap, and watched with a faint smile the 
 carnival concourse of people. Presently she 
 raised two fingers and touched the velvet rim 
 of her hat. 
 
 " What was that for? " asked Mrs. Devine. 
 
 " Morituri salutamus," murmured Deborah. 
 
 " That's Latin, isn't it ? " 
 
 " Every word of it. It means ' In God we 
 trust.' " 
 
 An iron-jawed woman sitting by her, who 
 was also to make a speech, raised herself from 
 her apathy. 
 
 "No need for the gladiatorial spirit," she 
 said, without expression. " Just talk. The one 
 rule to be remembered in a street corner 
 speech is don't look at any particular in- 
 dividual. Talk to the lamp-post behind the 
 crowd." 
 
 Deborah remembered this when they set her 
 down on the sidewalk. Mrs. Devine's scheme 
 
 52
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 was to have three, or perhaps four meetings, a 
 block apart, all occurring at once. The idea of 
 the whole performance was first of all to attract 
 attention. Mrs. Dobson's strategy was not so 
 much to convince people by the force of the 
 arguments of her speakers, as to advertise the 
 movement, to let the public know there was 
 activity. Therefore she had said to Deborah, 
 "Just talk." 
 
 Deborah was left at a street corner with a 
 supporter bearing an explanatory banner in 
 the midst of a strenuous jostling crowd. The 
 machine had been standing by the curb for fully 
 five minutes before she alighted, and she had 
 sat calmly in her seat as though she were not 
 at all a part of the thing that was to come. A 
 great phalanx of students, flushed with victory, 
 had paused at the brink of the fountain in the 
 parking, disgorged from its midst two freshmen 
 of their beloved alma mater and driven them, 
 trembling but elated at the distinction accorded 
 them, across the shallow water of the basin. 
 The crowd of citizens gathered about had 
 
 53
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 laughed indulgently at this sacrifice to the 
 goddess of good fortune. When the freshmen, 
 grown twelve months in importance, had stepped 
 out of the water and the phalanx, thirsting for 
 something bizarre enough to satisfy its jaded 
 appetite, had swept by, but while the crowd 
 still remained, the iron-jawed woman had thrown 
 open the door. 
 
 " This is the psychological moment," she 
 said. 
 
 Deborah nodded. When the door of the 
 automobile swung shut again, it might have 
 been the iron clang of the gate shutting her in 
 the lion's den. But she had now a Daniel's 
 self-possession. When the machine drove off 
 she did not regret it. The joy of action was 
 upon her. She stood up on her box and cried, 
 with just the ease and egotism the situation 
 needed : 
 
 " Look at me ! " 
 
 And they all looked. She had absolute con- 
 fidence in the power of her own personality ; 
 and in the second of silence that followed those 
 
 54
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 three words, she caught their attention and held 
 it in the hollow of her hand. Their curiosity 
 was aroused. Their interest in the trim girl 
 standing there a picturesque, slender goddess, 
 her hands held to her sides, her chin tilted 
 upward made them wait to hear what she 
 would say. She was keen enough to see then 
 that the starting point of her speech must be 
 the idea that was already in their minds, and 
 when she spoke she spoke of the freshmen who 
 had just been made to walk through the basin 
 of the fountain. Her voice carried across the 
 crowd. She spoke in short sentences. Once 
 she made them laugh. Then she deftly drew 
 a parallel between the students forced to wade 
 in the fountain against their will while the world 
 looked on and approved, and woman wading 
 in the muddy waters of Inferiority. It was a 
 crude metaphor, hastily thrown together, but 
 admirably suited for this open-air gathering, 
 where ideas had to be delivered in bulk. 
 
 She felt she was making an impression. 
 Here and there she was conscious of eyes look- 
 
 55
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 ing intently upon her. Near by, on her left, was 
 some one who seemed to have jostled his way 
 through the crowd, whose eyes she felt did not 
 leave her ; but, following the warning of the iron- 
 jawed woman, she looked at no one. Her 
 speech would have been a tremendous success 
 had it not happened that, at the very climax of 
 it, the phalanx of students, roaring like an angry 
 Roman mob, returned and burst, a human 
 battering-ram, through the midst of the crowd. 
 Like Sherman marching to the sea, it divided 
 the audience in twain ; and so great was its 
 cry, it was impossible to be heard above it. 
 These youthful enthusiasts, the freedom of the 
 city theirs, all their dynamic enthusiasm let 
 loose, hysterical with excitement, searching 
 only for some excess more absurd and unreal 
 than the last, spread everywhere like an ominous 
 horde of Goths. 
 
 Then they saw Deborah on her box. 
 
 Theirs not to reason why! Theirs not to 
 weigh the situation delicately, to consider the 
 question of courtesy and sanity and advisability. 
 
 56
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 Theirs not even to imagine what they might 
 have done in a less hysterical moment. 
 
 " To the fountain with the Suffragettes ! " 
 
 To the lions with the Christians ! The Roman 
 mob has tasted blood. Nothing will stop them. 
 The phalanx turns its head. The crowd is 
 thrust apart and down the lane sweeps the mob 
 of avenging spirits, crazy for sacrifice. There 
 is the fountain, and there are Deborah and her 
 standard-bearer. The standard-bearer, pale as 
 a ghost, pulls her sleeve. 
 
 " Come away ! " she cries. 
 
 But Deborah continues to talk over the heads 
 of chaos. No word of hers is audible. She is 
 outwardly calm, but within is a great tumult of 
 excitement. Her mind is working quickly. 
 She scarcely gives a thought to her words. 
 The riot is upon her. For the first time she 
 glances down at the faces before her. A man 
 in her audience has stepped to her side, but 
 she does not need his help. 
 
 The onslaught is led by a great flaxen-haired 
 boy, huge in his college sweater, with mischief 
 
 57
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 in his eyes. As he reaches the pavement before 
 her box, she bursts into a radiant smile, and 
 holds out her hand. 
 
 " Who," she cried, " would have thought of 
 seeing you here ? " 
 
 Certainly not Deborah, who had never seen 
 him at all before. The boy stopped astounded. 
 He could not remember that face, but he was 
 confused and rattled and suddenly ashamed. 
 The color mounted his cheeks. He stood there 
 backing up the crowd behind him, and took her 
 hand. 
 
 " We came," he said, sheepishly, not know- 
 ing at all what to say, "to congratulate 
 you." 
 
 She smiled, and then the crowd, its inertia 
 gone, its interest fading, began to flow in an- 
 other direction. 
 
 (i Bravo ! " cried the voice of the man who 
 was standing beside her. " Back with your 
 heathen horde, Ethelwolfe. She beat you to it 
 that time." 
 
 The boy smiled, with a diverting mixture of 
 58
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 shamefacedness and interest, and was presently 
 lost in the crowd. 
 
 Mrs. Devine's automobile rolled up to the 
 curb. The standard-bearer clambered in. Deb- 
 orah looked curiously at the man who had 
 spoken. It was her young man of the roof ! 
 
 " Don't go in that machine," he said. " Come 
 with me." 
 
 She smiled and shook her head. 
 
 " Hurry, please, Miss Carver," said Mrs. De- 
 vine, grown suddenly nervous. 
 
 A great turning of the crowd swept Deborah 
 away. Mrs. Devine saw the young man seize 
 her and shoulder a way through it. When the 
 girl stood still once more the machine was gone. 
 
 59
 
 CHAPTER VI 
 
 my word," said her young man of 
 the roof, " this is a wild night. One 
 thousand congratulations," he went on, " for 
 your strategy. It was Napoleonic." 
 
 She laughed. 
 
 " It was necessary," she replied. 
 
 He looked for the automobile. 
 
 " Gone ! " she said. 
 
 He smiled. 
 
 " Marooned, are you ? Let's strike out for 
 the mainland, then. I see a bright light ahead." 
 
 They started out along the sidewalk, now less 
 densely crowded. 
 
 " I am in a delicate position," he observed. 
 " You refuse to accompany me, and then your 
 friends thrust you defenseless upon me. I am 
 a monstrous ogre carrying you off." 
 
 " I could take a street car," she assured him, 
 placidly. 
 
 " Always resourceful. So you could. I am 
 60
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 reassured. If I find you dashing off in the mid- 
 dle of a sentence, I shall know that you have 
 taken a street car." 
 
 " Where are we going, anyway ? " she asked. 
 "Are you taking me home? " 
 
 He looked at his watch. 
 
 " Seven o'clock," he said. " Who ever heard 
 of going home at seven o'clock ! " 
 
 " What then ? " she asked. 
 
 " I must ask you an intimate and highly per- 
 sonal question first," he said. 
 
 She looked at him warily. 
 
 " Go on," she said, smiling. 
 
 " Have you had your dinner ? " he asked. 
 
 "No." 
 
 " If I should propose to you that we stop at 
 this twelve story wayside inn, and call roundly 
 for our suppers, would you inform me that you 
 did not know me well enough, or would you in- 
 sist on my procuring from the thin air a dull, 
 toothless chaperon ? " 
 
 " Neither," she replied, with bewildering di- 
 rectness. " I should say ' yes,' quickly." 
 
 61
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 His face brightened, and presently they en- 
 tered the inn, ablaze with lights and people. 
 
 " As a suffragist and a feminist and all those 
 iniquitous things," she explained, when they 
 were seated at a table and he was glancing at 
 the card with the air of a poet about to com- 
 pose a sonnet, " I am supposed to take care of 
 myself without the aid of a chaperon. Haven't 
 you heard that woman is the intellectual equal 
 of man ? " 
 
 " Yes, I knew it had been so decided. Tell 
 me," he added when he had arranged the 
 various formalities that would assure them of 
 their dinner, " how did they get you ? " 
 
 " Why not ? " she asked, amused. 
 
 " You are that unusual type of woman who 
 possesses femininity. People would have 
 recognized you for a woman in eighteen 
 forty." 
 
 She put her elbows on the table. 
 
 "You are delicious," she said. "It isn't 
 only the masculine woman that is backing the 
 
 equal suffrage movement." 
 
 62
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 He shook his head doubtfully. 
 
 " The whole thing is upside down," he as- 
 serted. " Here is a multitude of women and 
 men who bring forth the doctrine that woman 
 is indistinguishable from man and possessed of 
 all masculine attributes and call their propa- 
 ganda the feminist movement It is the non- 
 feminist movement. They say no such thing 
 as woman exists." 
 
 " I feel somehow," she said, pleasantly, " that 
 you do not sympathize with women in their 
 crusade." 
 
 " Sympathize with them I My heart goes 
 out to them. I pray for them with tears in my 
 eyes." 
 
 She laughed and then grew suddenly serious. 
 
 " Why shouldn't women have the ballot ? " 
 
 He waved his hand. 
 
 " It wouldn't be interesting to hear me rehash 
 all that." 
 
 " Certainly it would. Take this theorem. 
 If women are intellectually the equals of men, 
 why shouldn't they vote ? " 
 
 63
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 " But, my dear woman, what has intellectu- 
 ality to do with the ballot ? The ballot is a 
 thing of brawn not brain. It has been passed 
 up, so to speak, by women during the years 
 because it is symbolic of brawling man. It 
 isn't a man's intellect that makes us respect his 
 vote. It's his biceps." 
 
 " I don't think I understand." 
 
 He gazed at her thoughtfully. 
 
 " This is an age," he said, " of substitutes. 
 When I buy a city house for one hundred thou- 
 sand dollars this is all pure fable, of course 
 I don't pay for it in gold florins. I give a 
 check a check absolutely worthless except for 
 what it represents. Well. In the olden days 
 when there was a ruler to be chosen, each side 
 got together its voters and provided them with 
 spears in place of ballots. Sometimes a wise 
 head would win with a minority by means of 
 strategy just as at the polls to-day. But in 
 general the majority prevailed, after their op- 
 ponents had sampled the quality of their spears. 
 In our wise civilization, the piece of paper called 
 
 64
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 the ballot simply represents a man with a spear 
 or a Winchester rifle, as the case may be. It 
 does not represent intellect." 
 
 She looked at him keenly, but did not reply. 
 
 " One thing which most people fail to con- 
 sider," he went on, " is the fact that had it not 
 been for the efforts and the finer feelings of 
 men, the propaganda of equal suffrage would 
 not even have been possible. Our civilization 
 accords woman a consideration, which the 
 strength God gave her would be powerless to 
 exact. There was no such civilization three or 
 four centuries ago. In those days a man would 
 stretch a lady on the rack with the same care- 
 free spirit with which he now rises to give her 
 his seat on the street car. Those were times of 
 absolute equality of the sexes, when she must 
 expect to be treated just as if she were a man. 
 Imagine her then chaining herself to a seat in 
 Parliament and screaming at the speakers, or 
 conducting a hunger strike. The militant suf- 
 fragist is a person who seeks to defeat man by 
 virtue of his own consideration for her. She 
 
 65
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 exists as a result of the civilization he has per- 
 fected. She shouts for equality of the sexes ; 
 and what she really wants is a little more in- 
 equality. She does not go about her crusade 
 frankly. If she would bend her energies to 
 proving that all women, or most women, want 
 the ballot, men in this country at least would 
 undoubtedly grant it to her. But I sometimes 
 feel that in her heart she does not find much 
 excitement in having it merely granted. She 
 wants to believe that she forced it." 
 
 Her eyes had not left his face. She smiled. 
 
 " Is that last an argument," she said, " against 
 equal suffrage?" 
 
 He spread out his hands. 
 
 " I forgot myself," he replied, with a whim- 
 sical smile. " It is useless for a man a mere 
 man to argue on the subject of woman's suf- 
 frage. It is a woman's fight. Her greatest 
 trouble is to convince, not men, but her fellow 
 women." 
 
 " Are you a mere man ? " she asked. 
 
 " It's all one word," he replied, smiling. 
 66
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 " Man is simply the abbreviation from your 
 point of view." 
 
 While her companion had been talking, he 
 had looked around him, and spoken to several 
 people scattered here and there about the room. 
 She could not help wondering about him. He 
 had the confident bearing of a man who accom- 
 plished things. The people who spoke to him 
 did so with a certain amount of deference, and 
 she imagined afterward that they were talking 
 about him. It was a strange thing for her to be 
 dining with him here when she did not even 
 know his name. It added to the excitement of 
 it. When she had tried to fathom him a little 
 more she would ask him about himself and per- 
 haps let him tell her his name. She felt satis- 
 fied as to his decency of feeling, which was 
 credentials enough for the present. As to the 
 rest, it lent interest to the situation to have a 
 few things undetermined. 
 
 " Tell me something about yourself, won't 
 you ? " he asked, as if in evidence that he had 
 been pursuing a counter line of thought. 
 
 67
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 She laughed. 
 
 " In the words of the women who write to the 
 newspapers," she said, " I am a young brunette 
 of an earnest disposition except that in my 
 case I have lost the bloom of youth." 
 
 " Is it possible ? " he cried. 
 
 She nodded. 
 
 " I am twenty-six." 
 
 " Ah me ! " he sighed. " It is the heyday of 
 youth." 
 
 " But," she said, " I have accomplished noth- 
 ing. I am a prim old maid school-teacher." 
 
 " Few of us really accomplish things. Once 
 in a decade some one invents a sewing-machine 
 or a telephone. But that is grand-stand play. 
 If I could go to Heaven with a certificate stat- 
 ing that out of every two opportunities to help 
 the people around me I had accepted one, I 
 would have an even chance with the sewing- 
 machine man and the telephone man." 
 
 She looked at him with a warm kindliness in 
 her eyes. 
 
 " If you are a school-teacher," he said, " and 
 68
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 every day put one fine idea into a small mind, 
 you have accomplished a wonderful thing. 
 Think of a school-teacher sighing for more 
 worlds to conquer I " he exclaimed. " Why, 
 an old professor of mine, living along now on 
 nothing at all a year, as he always has, I look back 
 upon as the guiding star of my life. He was in- 
 spiration and incentive to me. And his reward 
 in life was to realize that every once in a while 
 he succeeded in sending a man out into the 
 world." 
 
 She smiled appreciatively. 
 
 " And," she asked, with a new-born liking for 
 him, " were you one of them ? " 
 
 " You must not catch me up so quickly," he 
 replied. " I try very hard to be one of them. 
 But I am thirty-two which is twice as old as 
 twenty-six and have accomplished very little 
 of what I had expected to accomplish. So I 
 may not be one of them." 
 
 The man put dishes before them, and they 
 were busy for a while with the aroma and the 
 first taste of much-desired food. 
 
 69
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 " I find myself groping about," he said, at 
 length, " for something to call you. Have you 
 a name ? " he asked, laughing. 
 
 " Two," she replied. 
 
 " What is the proper way to go about know- 
 ing them, I wonder? " 
 
 " You have adopted it." 
 
 She told him then. 
 
 " Deborah Carver," he repeated. " I think I 
 like that name." 
 
 She bowed to him. A tremendous curiosity 
 tugged at her. She wanted to know his name, 
 yet she scarcely wanted to ask him so quickly 
 on the heels of his own similar question. The 
 mystery of him entertained her. 
 
 But presently some men rose and passed their 
 table. One of them, a round jolly man with 
 that air of intimate familiarity with all the 
 crowned heads of Olympus and elsewhere, that 
 characterizes your newspaper correspondent, 
 stopped by their table* and addressed her com- 
 panion with an air of simply wishing to say 
 
 something friendly. 
 
 70
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 " When is that bill," he said, " coming out of 
 your committee ? " 
 
 There was a silence after that gentleman had 
 gone. She looked at him with a renewed in- 
 terest. 
 
 " Are you in Congress ? " she asked, quietly. 
 
 " For my sins," he said. 
 
 " And which one are you ? " 
 
 " Fifth row, third from the aisle. Name, Lea. 
 John Marshall Lea."
 
 CHAPTER VII 
 
 HE looked at her in amusement, quite well 
 aware of what she was thinking. 
 
 " I am the ogre," he said, smiling. 
 
 She hesitated. She had the unconvinced air 
 of a person into whose mind there is no space 
 to fit an unexpected fact. The fact was unex- 
 pected and unbelievable. It was certainly ridic- 
 ulous for her, an avowed and active suffra- 
 gist, to dine and converse pleasantly with this 
 strenuous opponent of woman's suffrage. 
 
 " Of course it's ridiculous," he asserted, when 
 she said something to that effect presently. 
 " But differences of opinion are very unimpor- 
 tant things. My opinion on this question is 
 part of my profession. Yours is the result of 
 philanthropic impulse. In our moments of re- 
 laxation we leave those things behind us. 
 There is nothing incongruous in your dining
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 with me here to-night, and then throwing a 
 bomb at me on the street in the morning. In 
 fact, it would show that you did the thing on 
 principle and not from personal motives." 
 
 " I have no intention of throwing a bomb at 
 you," she said. " The trouble is if I am seen 
 making a suffrage speech in the afternoon, and 
 then trailing around in the most comfortable 
 way in the world with you in the evening, it 
 will cause comment." 
 
 " True enough," he cried ; " we must hurry to 
 shelter before that newspaper man returns and 
 takes a flash-light picture of us." 
 
 They rose from the table. 
 
 " I see that the only way for me to enjoy a 
 little of your society," he said, later, as they 
 approached the house where she lived, " is to 
 dash up in a cab, thrust you in it and hustle 
 you off to dinner against your will. Then no 
 one could doubt your sincerity." 
 
 " In that case," she said, smiling, " the rules 
 require a hunger and thirst strike." 
 
 " You give me no chance." 
 73
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 " Unless," she observed, mischievously, " you 
 change your opinions." 
 
 " A bribe ! " he exclaimed. " Madam," he 
 went on, thrusting his hand into the breast of 
 his coat, " all congressmen are incorruptible. 
 If you don't believe it, read the ' Congressional 
 Record.' " 
 
 She laughed. 
 
 " Then good-bye," she said, holding out her 
 hand. 
 
 " Good-bye. You know," he added, thought- 
 fully, " there is a great deal of very fine ozone 
 to be breathed on the housetops nowadays." 
 
 She gazed at him understandingly. 
 
 " But it is growing too cold," she said, her 
 lips firmly set. 
 
 He looked at her keenly, and then taking off 
 his hat, bowed pleasantly, and walked down 
 the street. She did not look after him, but went 
 immediately into the house. 
 
 This gentleman was an ideal person to let 
 alone. He possessed almost every characteris- 
 tic to render him objectionable. He opposed the 
 
 74
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 crusade to which she had resolutely decided to 
 devote her life ; and she could not run with the 
 hare and hunt with the hounds. Moreover, he 
 was entertaining and companionable and con- 
 genial, which barred him entirely from her 
 sight. Those were faults in a man which she 
 nun that she was ! could not overlook. She 
 had nothing to do now with men that appealed 
 to her and interested her. All that was behind 
 her. She smiled as she glanced at her reflec- 
 tion in the hallway mirror. She was a martyr. 
 Like old Saint Simeon Stylites, she sat forever 
 on the top of a high column and watched the 
 world of men pass by beneath her. They were 
 not for her. There was no love and marriage 
 on the top of the column ; nothing but the 
 storm and sleet of continued spinsterhood. The 
 whole situation was indeed grotesquely im- 
 probable. 
 
 But she had joined in a serious movement 
 with serious-minded women, and she must carry 
 out her part. As a famous suffrage speaker had 
 said, the beginnings of all great reforms were 
 
 75
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 ludicrous and excited the ridicule of the world. 
 Mr. Lea himself had told her that she must not 
 view her own ambitions with a sense of humor, 
 for that destroyed the essential element of confi- 
 dence. She looked at her trim, well-dressed 
 figure in the glass. 
 
 " You don't look like a martyr, my dear," she 
 said, " but I think you had best continue to be 
 one." 
 
 She stumbled up the dark staircase. The gas 
 lights in the hall above burned like pin points. 
 Miss Howell met her in the third floor hall. 
 
 " Deborah," she exclaimed, in an elaborate 
 stage whisper that could be heard all over the 
 house, " Mrs. Dobson has been here nearly an 
 hour waiting for you. She is almost wild. I 
 never saw such a fidgety woman. She paces 
 the room like a lioness." 
 
 "Surplus energy," the other commented. 
 
 " Where is that girl ? " cried a voice suddenly. 
 Mrs. Dobson burst out of their room, and to 
 Deborah's immeasurable astonishment and con- 
 fusion, kissed her right on the mouth. 
 
 76
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 " Come in and sit down," she said, when she 
 had recovered. 
 
 " I hope I never have to sit down again," the 
 lady ejaculated. "I sat in that chair twelve 
 months waiting for you to-night." 
 
 " Sorry I was so late," the girl replied, peni- 
 tently. 
 
 " Never mind. I would have waited two 
 hours more. I made up my mind I was not 
 going to leave this room until I had told you 
 how splendid you were. I heard all about your 
 speech and the way you put the college boys to 
 rout. You have real resourcefulness. I need 
 you. I admire you. I adore you." 
 
 Deborah blushed rose-red. 
 
 " My dear Mrs. Dobson," she protested. 
 
 Mrs. Dobson sat down on the edge of the bed 
 for a moment and then bounced excitedly to her 
 feet again. 
 
 " I mean every word of it, and I want you to 
 help us in our hearings before the Congressional 
 Committee. You can help us." 
 
 " But," Deborah exclaimed, awed by this new 
 77
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 responsibility, "I should make a very poor 
 witness." 
 
 " Why ? " shot out the visitor. 
 
 " I haven't the poise, the sangfroid" 
 
 " Bosh ! " exclaimed Mrs. Dobson. She 
 reached for her umbrella. 
 
 " Well," she said, " think it over. I will not 
 rest until I get you. But the hearings are a 
 month off. I simply wanted to let you know 
 to-night that you are a doomed woman." 
 
 She started toward the door, and then coming 
 back looked at Deborah searchingly. 
 
 " Has anything happened to make you regret 
 that you signed that paper? " 
 
 " Why do you ask ? " the girl demanded, sur- 
 prised. 
 
 " I have an intuition about things sometimes," 
 she responded. " If you have changed your 
 mind, I can have the pledge you took re- 
 scinded." 
 
 Astonishment was in Deborah's eyes. 
 
 " I am sure I have no such desire," she as- 
 serted. 
 
 78
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 " Good 1 Then think over what I asked you 
 to do." 
 
 She presently departed, a majestic figure. 
 Her skirt rode at an angle with the floor. Wisps 
 of her hair, unrestrained, blew about her uncom- 
 fortably, so that you wanted to take affairs in 
 your own hands and put them in place. But 
 in her bright eyes, shining through the gold- 
 bowed spectacles, was the light of determina- 
 tion. And when that foot, clad in its square- 
 toed, common-sense shoe, planted itself firmly, 
 it had the immovable air of a house builded on 
 a rock. 
 
 "Of course she's efficient," Deborah ex- 
 claimed. " She has one idea, and she drives at 
 that. All her impulses are masculine. Imagine 
 her in a home superintending the dusting and 
 cleaning of woodwork, and the preparation of 
 hash from yesterday's beefsteak. She couldn't 
 exist." 
 
 " I think she is a tremendous argument in 
 favor of woman suffrage. Women like that 
 ought to have an interest in public affairs." 
 
 79
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 " If all women were like that there wouldn't 
 be any need of argument. They would march 
 up to the Capitol and run every one out of it. 
 But they aren't all like that" 
 
 " Sometimes I hardly know whether you favor 
 woman's suffrage or not, Deborah." 
 
 Deborah laughed softly. 
 
 "I am always a woman," she said, enig- 
 matically. 
 
 80
 
 CHAPTER VIII 
 
 ONE day two or three weeks later, Deborah 
 walked into the Capitol. It was a very un- 
 residential thing to do. She had not been within 
 those walls for many a day. She had passed by 
 its glorious dome daily, and given but little 
 thought to what happened beneath it, except to 
 note that of late years Congress sat there almost 
 continually. The long session dragged on until 
 it merged into the short session ; and in the nine 
 months when there should have been a recess 
 for the welfare of the country, they sat in special 
 session until it was time to convene again. 
 
 To-day some impulse led her up the broad 
 steps and into the rotunda. The place was 
 filled with tourists trotting amiably in compact 
 masses after their respective guides. She did 
 not know why she came. She was like the 
 
 girl in the fairy-story who followed an invisible 
 
 81
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 thread in her hand, which led her on to un- 
 known places. The thread that led Deborah 
 was invisible and intangible, but it had a tract- 
 ive power. It led on through that circular 
 storehouse for statues, by the busy telegraph 
 desks, by the doorkeeper at his post, keeping 
 all but the elect from the sacred floor beyond, 
 up marble stairs, paused to allow a diplomatic 
 exchange of conversation with another door- 
 keeper, and terminated finally in a secluded 
 spot in the corner of the Members' Gallery. No 
 one could have been more surprised in the end 
 than was Deborah herself. 
 
 Under that dome is a diverting show. The 
 Speaker pounds the wooden top of his marble 
 desk, until the place resounds like a carpen- 
 ter shop. Conversation continues. Gentlemen 
 make speeches some audible, some inaudible. 
 The chosen representatives of a great people 
 lose their tempers and invite each other out- 
 side, pugilistic encounters not being furnished 
 on the floor of the House for the entertainment 
 
 of the galleries. A lull. A man rises, and 
 
 82
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 before you know it, he has launched into a 
 real speech which ends in a flurry of applause. 
 In the morning the newspapers will repeat it, 
 and perhaps fifty years from now your grand- 
 children may read a sentence or two of it in 
 their histories. 
 
 When Deborah entered the gallery, the floor 
 of the House sounded like the drone of the 
 mob in Julius Caesar, A gentleman was mak- 
 ing a speech in a confidential tone to the offi- 
 cial stenographer, who sat in the seat directly 
 in front of him driving his pencil earnestly 
 across his paper. The House buzzed with con- 
 versation. But the man on the floor was not 
 talking to them; he was addressing his con- 
 stituents through the medium of the " Congres- 
 sional Record." The Speaker listened in a state 
 of coma. Deborah's eyes wandered over the 
 chamber. At length they stopped and fixed 
 themselves on one spot almost with the air of 
 being surprised at what they saw. John Mar- 
 shall Lea sat at his desk. She watched him 
 impersonally. If any excitement or interest 
 
 83
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 was aroused in her heart, she showed none 
 of it in her face. By leaning forward she could 
 have seen more of him than just his head. But 
 she did not lean forward. 
 
 Presently the man on the floor finished his 
 task and subsided into his seat. The stenog- 
 rapher, thrusting carelessly under his arm the 
 only existing record of the recent winged words, 
 rose, thirsting for more words. The clerk at 
 the desk adjusted his glasses, and with a poise 
 that was absolute, sang a short selection to the 
 House. 
 
 The song, which like grand opera in Eng- 
 lish was more or less indistinguishable, had 
 something to do with the limit of cost of a 
 certain Federal building which the bill in the 
 clerk's hands proposed to raise from such and 
 such a figure to such and such a figure. All 
 this was as unimportant to Deborah as it ap- 
 peared to be to every one else in the chamber. 
 The place this Federal building was to adorn 
 she had never heard of before. She wondered 
 what was to happen next. 
 
 84
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 The Speaker seized his gavel and delivered 
 a muscular blow upon the desk. 
 
 " The gentleman from Kentucky," he cried. 
 " The House will be in order. Gentlemen will 
 cease conversation." 
 
 He glared about the chamber. Bang. Bang. 
 The gavel fell again. The contented murmur 
 died down a trifle. 
 
 " The gentleman from Kentucky." 
 
 Deborah did not know who the gentleman 
 from Kentucky might be. She glanced at the 
 clock, wondering whether to stay longer. 
 
 She made a tentative move, preparatory to 
 rising. And then the sound of a firm, clear 
 voice, a familiar voice, reached her ear. She 
 did not have to look down upon the floor of 
 the House to know that it was John Marshall 
 Lea who had been elected from the State of 
 Kentucky. 
 
 But she did look down upon the floor of 
 the House. Her eyes sought the speaker. A 
 tremor of excitement ran through her. He ad- 
 dressed the House of Representatives in the 
 
 85
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 same even, dispassionate tone that he had 
 used when he had talked to her. A whimsical 
 choosing of his words, a crispness to his 
 sentences, and the carrying power of his 
 voice mowed down the conversation about 
 him. He used no flowers of speech. He 
 was asking for the increase in appropriation 
 carried by the bill that had just been read 
 at the desk. He did not ask for it in the 
 name of the forty-eight stars and the thirteen 
 stripes. He asked for it by virtue of cer- 
 tain statistics which he read and followed 
 by a logical, concise statement. The whole 
 speech took two minutes by the clock over 
 the Speaker's desk. But she noted with a 
 feeling that might almost have been called 
 pride that all about the House the mem- 
 bers were listening. However, it availed him 
 little. 
 
 After he had finished, a gentleman sitting 
 near the Speaker's desk rose impressively and 
 replied in a colorless speech that referred to a 
 
 certain goddess by the name of Economy, that 
 
 86
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 great name to conjure with when all other 
 deities fail. It was plain from his speech that 
 he was saying, though not in so many words, 
 that the House of Representatives was not in- 
 terested in the needs of the town in Kentucky, 
 that the money might be better used for build- 
 ings in Maine or California or whatever state it 
 was the respective members had been chosen 
 from. What is patriotism in one's own state is 
 extravagance in another man's state. The 
 vote was taken and the bill was, with a certain 
 air of nonchalance, voted down. Lea had not 
 touched deep enough. He was thinking, per- 
 haps, at that moment that to put through a bill 
 so special in its appeal, he must hold in his 
 hand a great lever to pry the House out of its 
 lethargy. 
 
 He called immediately for a division and de- 
 layed the decision long enough to send out for 
 his friends who were in the cloak-rooms. But 
 many were in the committee rooms which were 
 in the House Office Building across the street ; 
 and it is a long journey even by the under- 
 
 8?
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 ground passage, so that he could not get his 
 majority. Deborah was as chagrined and cast 
 down as if it had been her own bill that was 
 defeated. 
 
 But John Lea was not idle. He left the cham- 
 ber for a moment and returned presently to his 
 seat. Something in the resolute set of his mouth 
 prompted Deborah to remain. In a short time 
 a score of members who had not been there 
 before entered and took their seats. Lea 
 rose. She wondered. It would have been im- 
 possible to get the House of Representatives 
 under ordinary circumstances to reconsider his 
 bill. 
 
 " Why does the gentleman rise ? " demanded 
 the Speaker. 
 
 There was a strange light in the gentleman's 
 eyes. 
 
 " Mr. Speaker," he said, gravely and impress- 
 ively, " I rise to a question of the highest per- 
 sonal privilege." 
 
 The House held its breath. This meant ex- 
 citement. 
 
 88
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 " This question affects the right of a member 
 to his seat in the House." 
 
 The statement was serious and far-reaching. 
 Deborah could see the members leaning for- 
 ward in their seats. But they all saw the 
 glimmer of humor in his eyes. Lea was calm 
 and self-possessed. He had the situation in his 
 hands. 
 
 " The member," he said, amidst an absolute 
 silence, " is myself." 
 
 The House burst into a roar of laughter. He 
 had touched beneath their skins. 
 
 "If I do not get the appropriation for my 
 custom house," he exclaimed, " under the im- 
 perative facts I stated a moment ago, my 
 constituents will not return me to my seat 
 in this House and I shall not deserve to be 
 returned. I ask you now to reconsider and 
 pass my bill." 
 
 There was nothing parliamentary in this 
 unique method of attack. In fact it might 
 have been said that it was merely a subtly 
 transparent evasion of parliamentary proce- 
 
 89
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 dure. But in it was embodied a serene under- 
 standing of the natures about him. 
 
 The leader of his side of the chamber asked 
 him again as to certain facts he had stated. 
 The Goddess Economy faded into the misty 
 distance. Lea pressed his advantage gently 
 and skilfully. A gentleman rose and made a 
 brief speech full of legislative humor which ac- 
 centuated the good spirits of the tired members. 
 Lea had put rose glasses upon them. And 
 when the vote was taken again on the bill, it 
 slipped pleasantly through by a comfortable 
 majority. 
 
 Deborah looked at him when it was all over 
 triumph in her heart. He sat at his desk 
 just as he had before. And then he looked 
 up, almost directly at her, as though he felt her 
 presence. 
 
 She walked home. Dusk was just beginning 
 to fall. The sky in the west was a deep rose- 
 pink and against it stood the black silhouette of 
 the buildings before her. Lights everywhere 
 
 were springing into life. The new moon hung 
 90
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 in the sky. The sidewalks bustled with people 
 hurrying home. She turned presently into a 
 quieter street and she heard footsteps resound- 
 ing behind her. 
 
 " Miss Carver," said a voice. 
 
 She wheeled about. 
 
 11 Mr. Lea." 
 
 " I hope you will forgive my sleuthing you, 
 but I felt that I must see you." 
 
 "I sat in the gallery of your place of business 
 just now," she confessed. 
 
 " I know. I saw you there. I have been 
 endeavoring to have a moment's conversation 
 with you for some time. But you are more 
 difficult of access than the President. I prom- 
 enaded the roof one warm evening a week ago 
 hoping the starlight would tempt you. But I 
 think you were not in your room." 
 
 " How did you know that?" she demanded. 
 
 " Deep deduction. I saw the shadow of the 
 prim lady who occupies the room adjoining 
 yours falling on the brick wall beside your 
 window. You have said she talks readily. As
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 she was not talking, I assumed there was no 
 one in the room with her." 
 
 She smiled at him. 
 
 "Sometimes you are really bright, you 
 know." 
 
 He bowed. 
 
 " I value your good opinion above fine 
 gold," he asserted. 
 
 " I wonder if you do," she said. " I am all 
 curiosity to know what you wanted to see me 
 about." 
 
 " Is it true," he asked, " that you are expect- 
 ing to appear before our committee in behalf of 
 the suffragists?" 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 He hesitated. 
 
 " I hardly know," he went on, " how to ask 
 what I have to ask. I have no right to ask it 
 as a favor, nor can I give a very good and 
 sensible reason for it. I want to ask you not 
 to appear." 
 
 "Why?" she asked, evenly. 
 
 " Because," he replied, " your friendship, 
 92
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 your personality, mean too much to me to 
 have you appear there. To me you are 
 wonderfully and exquisitely feminine. There 
 are fundamental things in life for you 
 womanly things, motherly things, things that 
 have been important in the world for thousands 
 of years which are more valuable and dearer 
 to your heart than the mere matter of voting. 
 Why drag yourself out of yourself for a bauble 
 like that ? Your supporters in this movement 
 will say it is old-fashioned for a man to expect 
 a woman to remain a woman ; but I do. I 
 would rather you stayed on your mountain 
 height." 
 
 " I could not change now," she said, in a low 
 voice, but firmly. 
 
 He looked at her keenly. 
 
 " You are certain of that ? " 
 
 "Absolutely." 
 
 He sighed. 
 
 "Very well," he replied, smiling. "I shall 
 have to forget for the time that you are you." 
 
 "I'm very sorry," she returned. "Wouldn't 
 93
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 it be better," she asked, presently, " to simply 
 come over to our side ? " 
 
 He smiled. 
 
 "'Again the Devil taketh Him up into an 
 exceeding high mountain,' " he said. 
 
 94
 
 CHAPTER IX 
 
 QOUTHEAST of the Capitol te the low- 
 *^ lying white marble structure that is the 
 office building of the House of Representatives. 
 It and its twin the Senate Office Building 
 are the last word in refinement and culture. 
 They are almost supercilious in their propriety, 
 in their studied correctness, flaunting their 
 architectural blue-blood in the face of the 
 sturdy old Capitol as though they would say, 
 " My wehd, old chap, don't throw out your 
 chest so. It's crewd, you know. It isn't done 
 at all, really." 
 
 Within are the Turkish baths and the restau- 
 rants and offices and committee rooms of those 
 fortunate or unfortunate, according as you 
 look at it individuals who have been chosen 
 by the people at home to be statesmen, for 
 which thankless job they receive a little bit of 
 
 95
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 money, the privilege of using their signature 
 instead of a two-cent stamp, the maledictions 
 of the public press, and railroad fare. 
 
 It was toward this white office building of the 
 House that Deborah, her heart beating at more 
 than its usual cadence, her eyes bright with 
 excitement, walked slowly along one sunny 
 day in November. This was the day she was 
 to appear before the committee and make her 
 plea. The leafless trees on the Capitol grounds 
 stood bare and gaunt in the sunshine. The 
 little gray squirrels, foreseeing the approach of 
 winter, scampered over the hard earth search- 
 ing for food, pausing now and then, alert on 
 their haunches, enjoying the pretense that they 
 were wild in the woods and that these humans 
 who passed were carrying guns for little squir- 
 rels instead of peanuts. 
 
 At the street corner, a girl who had been 
 waiting for a car ran up to her. 
 
 "Why, Deborah Carver," she cried, grasp- 
 ing both her hands. 
 
 " Frances." 
 
 96
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 "Where are you going?" demanded the 
 other. 
 
 " I am a spinster lady going to make my 
 testimony before some congressmen on the sub- 
 ject of woman's suffrage." 
 
 " Dear, oh, dear 1 There is such a question, 
 isn't there ? How do you get time oh, but you 
 are not married. I am so busy thinking about 
 babies, and babies' foods and babies' baths and 
 those flitting evanescent things called chil- 
 dren's shoes, which are here to-day and to- 
 morrow are worn to shreds, that I have no time 
 to think of these advanced ideas." 
 
 " The foremost feminists say that's stagnation, 
 Frances, dear." 
 
 " But I like it. I would go through fire for 
 my children. Before I was married, I used to 
 belong to current events clubs and discuss 
 weighty questions and feel that I was stirring 
 atoms of intellect that might help some day in 
 the uplift of woman. The uplift of woman, in- 
 deed ! Do you realize, my dear, that there can 
 be nothing more glorious for women than in fol- 
 
 97
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 lowing out her natural bent and raising fine, 
 strong children for the world. Beside that the 
 mere privilege of casting a ballot twice a year 
 is too insignificant to think about." 
 
 " Even," observed Deborah, mildly, " if it 
 helped to pass legislation that was beneficial to 
 the fine, strong children ? " 
 
 The other hesitated as if that were a phase 
 of the situation she had not considered. 
 
 " The arguments for woman's suffrage," she 
 said, at length, tracing a pattern on the pave- 
 ment with her umbrella, " presuppose that all 
 laws to be advocated by women will be benefi- 
 cial laws ; that is, that the feminine intellect is 
 on such a high plane that no combination of 
 women will support legislation which it will be 
 necessary for the remainder of us to oppose. 
 Women will all act together as a unit for the 
 public good." 
 
 " Don't you believe that they will ? " 
 
 " I believe they are human. I believe they 
 will sometimes support good legislation and 
 
 sometimes bad. I believe that there would 
 
 98
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 come times when I should have to oppose issues 
 that other women supported. And opposition 
 in politics means endless activity. Simply drop- 
 ping one intelligent vote in the ballot box helps 
 very little." 
 
 " But if many women dropped in the intelli- 
 gent vote, it would help materially." 
 
 " Some women could do more. Unmarried 
 women and married women without children 
 or who leave the care of their children to nurses 
 would have an immeasurable advantage over 
 the rest of us. Winning at the polls is a busi- 
 ness in which organization and generalship are 
 the essential things. A woman who wishes to 
 be efficient in her home cannot properly give 
 the time to perfecting an organization and lay- 
 ing plans of battle. She has an organization 
 under her own roof that requires her to con- 
 serve her resources and is entitled to her first 
 consideration. No one has forced the care of 
 that household upon her. She assumes it will- 
 ingly no, in the majority of cases she assumes 
 it with enthusiasm." 
 
 99
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 Deborah looked at her companion queerly. 
 She remembered that, by the time she was 
 twenty-six, she had thought she would have as- 
 sumed that responsibility certainly with en- 
 thusiasm. 
 
 " But," she exclaimed, " you are in the infe- 
 rior position of having no voice in your own 
 government. Isn't that a slur on your intel- 
 lect?" 
 
 " No. I feel that the whole thing is merely 
 an amicable division of effort. Woman, by 
 reason of her ability to bear and nurse children, 
 assumes the responsibility of the home ; man, 
 by reason of his strength, assumes the responsi- 
 bility of earning their living and caring for their 
 political welfare. It is just the same as any 
 other division of responsibility. When my hus- 
 band and I were first married and were too 
 thoroughly poor to afford a maid, he took care 
 of the furnace and I took care of the kitchen 
 range. We made that arrangement because it 
 best suited our respective convenience and 
 strength. But I did not feel that it was a slur 
 
 100
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 on my intellect or capacity because I was not 
 allowed to care for the furnace too." 
 
 " But suppose you felt that he could have 
 done it better with your help ? " 
 
 Frances laughed. 
 
 " It would only have ended in the range go- 
 ing out. Wouldn't I have made a pretty figure, 
 my dear, explaining that I could do my work 
 and half of his as well ? " 
 
 Deborah smiled. 
 
 " I think, Frances, the thing you overlook is 
 the fact that woman's influence will be always a 
 power for good." 
 
 " Why should it ? " demanded the other 
 quickly. " Are women any more immune from 
 error, or mistakes in judgment, or culpability, 
 than men ? Aren't they the same frail humans, 
 possessing the same average of faults and 
 virtues ? You are not introducing a new ele- 
 ment into politics. You are simply doubling 
 the present one." 
 
 Deborah started to reply and then suddenly 
 
 she was struck with the force of the statement. 
 
 101
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 " That is a new idea for me," she said, 
 slowly. 
 
 Frances brightened. 
 
 " Then I shall not count this day lost." She 
 stepped out into the street to board the car that 
 was approaching. " Remember this, Deborah," 
 she said. " God made you a woman, with all 
 a woman's weakness of body. And God made 
 them men. That is the fundamental idea to be 
 borne in mind in this agitation." 
 
 Deborah stared after the car as it rumbled 
 away, and then walked thoughtfully on up the 
 steep street toward the white building before 
 her. 
 
 The Gommittee room was an ornate room, 
 and not the bare, bald torture chamber she had 
 expected. At one end a closely packed audi- 
 ence sat. They had been standing in line for 
 hours, and hordes of their disappointed sisters 
 were even now crowding the corridor, picking 
 up crumbs of gossip and hoping that something 
 would happen that would let them too into the 
 
 sacred precinct. At the far end of the room 
 
 102
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 was a long mahogany table, around which sat 
 ten inquisitors, to use a term that corresponded 
 with the feeling within her. The chairman, 
 drowsily awake, sat at the head of it and 
 directed the proceedings. Mrs. Dobson, her 
 bonnet sitting at the same angle at which she 
 had firmly planted it in her haste immediately 
 after breakfast, her square-toed shoes set res- 
 olutely on the rug before her, her mouth in a 
 hard, firm line as if she were a reincarnation of 
 the Sphinx, dominated the scene, dealing out 
 the time allotted her to her various supporters 
 as she saw fit. 
 
 Deborah found a seat waiting for her beside 
 Mrs. Dobson. The hearings had already be- 
 gun. A woman seated at the end of the long 
 table opposite the chairman was making an im- 
 passioned appeal, the feathers in her bonnet 
 bobbing emphatically as she spoke. There was 
 enthusiasm and assurance in her voice and in 
 her eyes the inspired light of a prophet. The 
 whole question lay before her like a map. She 
 
 knew her way around her conception of it 
 
 103
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 blindfold. There was something inspiring in 
 her sureness and her unmoved conviction that 
 she was in the right. 
 
 On the opposite side of the table from Deb- 
 orah sat John Lea. She gazed at him as he 
 sat there leaning back in his chair, his eyes 
 fixed on the blotter before him. It was evident 
 that nothing that was said escaped him. Oc- 
 casionally he would look up at the speaker as 
 though something she had said had attracted 
 his attention and once he leaned forward and 
 scratched a few words on his pad. 
 
 The next speaker was an aggressive young 
 woman with a tongue like a thin Damascus 
 blade. Her caustic conversation roused the 
 committeemen. They gazed at her with inter- 
 est and once or twice interrupted her to ask a 
 question, getting in return replies with a sting 
 that left the questioners discomfited. Lea 
 sometimes smiled at her sallies. Once, a 
 humorous gleam in his eyes, he interrupted her 
 himself, with the exaggerated air of a man about 
 
 to enter a den of lions. 
 
 104
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 " Could you tell me," he asked, pleasantly, 
 " how many women in the United States favor 
 woman's suffrage ? " 
 
 " All of them." 
 
 " Every one ? " 
 
 " Except a few old aunts and antis." 
 
 " Naturally," he agreed. " And how many 
 women are enrolled in your organization ? " 
 
 " Two hundred and fifty thousand. But with 
 five thousand Joshua marched round the city of 
 Jericho and the walls fell." 
 
 " Joshua knew the combination," he observed, 
 smiling, and let her go on with her argument. 
 
 The questions he asked now and then of the 
 women who spoke were direct and for informa- 
 tion. He did not attempt to " rattle " them or 
 confuse their testimony. On the contrary, he 
 was considerate and courteous. Deborah found 
 that her sympathy was with him. It was not 
 sympathy with his side of the question, but 
 sympathy with him as a person. How could 
 she help bring confusion upon the man's cause 
 
 if she looked with favor on him? But Mrs. 
 
 105
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 Dobson felt no sympathy for him. Every time 
 he spoke her mouth drew tighter, until it seemed 
 that it could stand the strain but a little while 
 longer. Presently she leaned toward Deborah 
 and said : 
 
 " We have just time for one more speaker. 
 I want you to take the stand." 
 
 Deborah sat up straighter in her chair. A 
 hot fire of excitement burned in her breast. 
 Her mind and heart were back in her own camp. 
 She had visited the enemy's outpost, so to 
 speak, and now she was ready to fight. 
 
 The speaker finished Mrs. Dobson rose. 
 
 " In yielding," she said, " the last few minutes 
 of my time to Miss Carver, I wish to say that 
 she typifies the spirit of the women who are 
 fighting for equal suffrage. Young, attractive, 
 with all the charm that could make any woman 
 lovable, she voluntarily gave up her chance of 
 marriage to follow in our cause and help us 
 fight this great fight. Nothing could be more 
 admirable and touching and forceful than that. 
 
 I yield to Miss Carver." 
 
 1 06
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 A storm of applause burst out in the room. 
 Deborah glanced for a fraction of a second at 
 Lea. A flush had mounted his face. Had he 
 known before what Mrs. Dobson had said ? 
 The applause continued. She rose and walked 
 to her place at the head of the table. A hush 
 fell upon the room. 
 
 She found that she was as cool as if she were 
 in her own school facing her pupils. She noted 
 the reflection of the lights on the polished table. 
 She saw the pattern of the vest on the ample 
 bosom of the gentleman beside her. Realizing 
 the value of the silence, she did not hurry with 
 her beginning, but when she was comfortably 
 seated, allowed them a moment of expectancy, 
 and then, catching them on the crest of the 
 wave, began to talk. 
 
 There was no sound in the room but her clear 
 voice. The voice was not strong, but it had a 
 quality that made every word distinctly audible 
 in the far corners of the chamber. She did not 
 attempt to rise to any height of feeling. Her 
 
 whole idea was to present a connected argu- 
 
 107
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 ment, which should carry itself along by its own 
 momentum like a proof in geometry. The 
 arguments she used had all been advanced be- 
 fore again and again. She merely selected and 
 arranged and coordinated them. She pre- 
 sented the whole question from its ethical stand- 
 point the standpoint of the right of the indi- 
 vidual woman to the ballot, without respect to 
 expediency. To her mind this was the strong- 
 est phase of the question. Discrimination in 
 the suffrage seemed to her unfair. That was 
 the citadel of her belief. And backed by that 
 conviction, she spoke clearly and impressively. 
 She could feel that she was being listened to. 
 
 When she had finished, the room burst into 
 a thunder of applause, in which some of the 
 men round the table, notably the gentleman in 
 the flowered vest, joined. She sat still in her 
 chair, gazing mildly at her white-gloved hands, 
 folded before her. The applause died down. 
 There was a tense silence. 
 
 It was broken by John Lea. 
 
 " Miss Carver," he said, quietly, " your speech 
 1 08
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 has been heard with more than usual attention, 
 and I feel that I speak for the whole committee 
 when I say we are all indebted to you for your 
 clear explanation of your case. The question 
 of suffrage for women," he went on, " depends 
 wholly on the women. There are twenty-five 
 million adult women in the United States. 
 There are two hundred and fifty thousand 
 women in your association. We will note the 
 testimony of you and your colleagues, Miss 
 Carver, as the expression of the views of one 
 woman in each one hundred." 
 
 A murmur broke loose in the room. 
 
 Deborah faced Mr. Lea. 
 
 " You must remember," she said, " there are 
 thousands of women not enrolled in our asso- 
 ciation who favor the suffrage." 
 
 " Undoubtedly," returned he, quickly. " I 
 simply call attention to the fact that no evidence 
 as to them has been presented to us." 
 
 There was no reply to that. 
 
 " It is perhaps unnecessary," Lea continued, 
 
 " as this is merely a hearing, for me to make a 
 
 109
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 statement. But I feel that it will perhaps facil- 
 itate matters during the remainder of the hear- 
 ings if I do so. I have made the point of the 
 minority who favor woman's suffrage I believe 
 it is generally acknowledged to be about one 
 woman in ten because I feel that it is the pivot 
 of the whole matter. Woman's suffrage is a 
 sweepingly revolutionary measure it is not a 
 thing to be decided offhand, or by virtue of 
 a theory, or from motives of chivalry. Men 
 and women are different in their bodies, in their 
 functions, in their emotions and in their mental 
 processes. It is for this reason that certain du- 
 ties of the home have devolved upon the woman 
 and certain duties of breadwinning and gov- 
 ernment have devolved upon men. This divi- 
 sion of responsibilities has been in operation for 
 centuries and under it the world has moved for- 
 ward to a high state of civilization. In other 
 words, it is efficient. That is the point I wish 
 to make." 
 
 He paused. Deborah found her eyes fixed 
 upon him. 
 
 no
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 "We are now asked to give up an efficient 
 system," he went on, " for one that may be 
 efficient, but has not been proven so ; a system 
 whose adoption would only be justifiable in 
 event of its being shown that woman has out- 
 grown the present one. It will be necessary to 
 show that they have outgrown it not that 
 ten per cent, have outgrown it, but that the 
 whole body of them have ; that the terms 
 1 masculine ' and ' feminine,' which made male 
 suffrage possible, have grown synonymous, 
 that woman, in the average, is no longer willing 
 to sit peacefully beside the man of her choice 
 without her hand too on the throttle. The 
 relation between the majority of men and 
 women is that of man and wife. That is what 
 is intended in the scheme of the universe. The 
 woman's suffrage movement is made possible 
 by unmarried women, who have attacked the 
 world from necessity in a man's way, who 
 labor shoulder to shoulder with men, who try 
 to think as men think. They feel that their 
 
 sex, instead of being a prerogative, is a handi- 
 
 iii
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 cap to them. They wish to establish a condi- 
 tion for all women to suit their own special 
 case. I make no criticism of this, but I say 
 there are other women to be convinced." 
 
 Deborah had listened with no thought of 
 aggression in her. Indignation seized her, 
 when he had finished, that she had no reply to 
 his arraignment of her cause. She had still 
 a minute of her time left. But, instead of argu- 
 ments martialing themselves in her brain, she 
 found herself instead struck on a sudden rock 
 of doubt. Was it true that her duty as a 
 woman required certain things of her merely 
 by virtue of her being a woman and that her 
 cause was not an attack against an artificial 
 system, but against a deep-rooted fundamental 
 thing against Providence for having created 
 her a woman ? 
 
 The idea staggered her. She was not 
 ashamed of being a woman. Her sex was 
 precious to her. In her heart burned a sting- 
 ing flame of resentment, of half-formed self- 
 accusation fired by the charge in Lea's words 
 
 112
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 the charge against them against her of 
 masculinity. Until to-day, she had not 
 thought of it in that way. The question had 
 not been complex to her. She had been 
 actuated merely by a desire to have her own 
 opinion officially recognized. She strove to 
 enter no alien field. Far above everything 
 else more important than any civil regulation 
 was her pride in her own womanliness. 
 
 In the midst of her absorption, she heard 
 the voice of the gentleman, the wearer of the 
 flowered waistcoat, as if he were speaking from 
 the far distance. 
 
 " Miss Carver," he said, " it has been stated 
 as an argument that you are so zealous in this 
 cause that you would rather have the right to 
 vote than have a husband. Is that actually 
 true ? It would throw an interesting side-light 
 on this question." 
 
 There was a hush in the room. Then 
 Deborah felt herself rising to her feet. The 
 tips of her fingers pressed against the polished 
 wood of the table. Her intention had been to
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 refuse to answer to say that the question was 
 too personal and had no bearing on the subject. 
 But an irresistible force moved her, put in her 
 a desire to lay her position accurately before 
 them. 
 
 " The action you refer to," she found herself 
 saying, in a low voice, but quite distinctly, 
 " was taken because I thought it would help 
 the cause. It represented no personal prefer- 
 ence. I am quite certain, on the contrary," 
 she concluded, the blood rushing to her face, 
 " that I should prefer a husband to the vote."
 
 CHAPTER X 
 
 AFTER the first dazed silence, the room 
 broke into an uproar. Mrs. Dobson sat 
 as motionless as if one view of the head of 
 Medusa had turned her to stone. 
 
 " I told you beforehand," asserted Deborah, 
 reaching for her muff, " that I would have to 
 be honest." 
 
 The other bounced to her feet. 
 
 " Oh, I don't blame you," she cried. " But 
 that Lea man. He avoids the issue. He 
 poisons the minds of the congressmen by say- 
 ing we are only a small minority. Does that 
 affect the righteousness of our cause ? If one 
 woman came here and proved that equal 
 suffrage was righf, Congress ought to pass a 
 law and make the other women vote whether 
 they wanted to or not^ If the ballot is a 
 woman's right, she ought to be made to 
 exercise it." 
 
 "5
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 Deborah presently escaped from a crowd of 
 excited women and came out upon the streets, 
 now lighted with their electric lights. She was 
 tremendously agitated. She did not want it to 
 be considered that she was dissatisfied with her 
 sex. She had no fault to find with the way she 
 had been created. She was proud that she was 
 a woman. This new idea that Providence had 
 endowed man with strength for the purpose of 
 administering the belligerent functions of life 
 and woman with gentleness to deal with chil- 
 dren and her home, gave her pause. If this 
 were true, was her revolt against the domina- 
 tion of man, or was it against the decree of 
 heaven ? If it were true, did not the doctrine of 
 woman's suffrage become a mere dissatisfaction 
 with sex ? It was a dissatisfaction with a woman's 
 restrictions, which were all traceable to the mere 
 fact that she was a woman. 
 
 For the first time, doubt crossed her mind. 
 And she felt vaguely that the doubt was there 
 because a new element had entered into her 
 
 being. She tried to prove to herself that her 
 
 116
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 passing interest in John Lea was an incidental 
 thing, that she thought of him merely with the 
 same friendly lukewarmness she reserved for 
 Jane. She pretended there was no pursuit, that 
 his interest awakened in her no refreshed pride 
 in her good looks and her personal charms. 
 She pretended, in a word, that her satisfaction 
 that she was a woman was not augmented by 
 his presence on the scene ; that no primary emo- 
 tion stirred in her heart, threatening to drive all 
 other considerations from it. But it was only a 
 thin pretense. 
 
 As she walked up Pennsylvania Avenue she 
 felt as if she wanted something to take her mind 
 off the subject that she had been thinking about 
 for the past week. She wanted to fill her head 
 up with anything that would adulterate the 
 strong solution of woman's suffrage that clogged 
 the convolutions of her brain. A bright light 
 burned in the building before her a bright 
 light that marked the open door to a wonderful 
 land of fancy a place of magic carpets which 
 
 whirled one in an instant to the far East and the 
 
 117
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 far West, to the mysteries of the dimmest past, 
 to the still deeper mysteries of the present. 
 When you say this palace of wonder was noth- 
 ing but a moving-picture show, you have de- 
 scribed it exactly. But you have described the 
 greatest gripping force of our modern civiliza- 
 tion ; the force that has changed the manners 
 and customs of our people, that has furnished 
 them with a non-toxic outlet for their desire to 
 be passively entertained, that has been mildly 
 diverting, that has stirred their fancy, that has 
 sometimes educated them. It is a relaxer, that 
 sweeps a man's own life out of his brain for a 
 while, and returns him again to earth recreated. 
 Deborah felt that it was a somewhat unintellec- 
 tual thing to turn her mind over to this anaes- 
 thetic, but there was a certain luxury about it 
 on that account. She approached the beautiful 
 female in the glass enclosure with a five cent 
 piece in her hand. 
 
 Within, to her unaccustomed eyes, it was 
 dark as the pit. There was a brass rail some- 
 where, and then, in the dimness, an aisle. She 
 
 118
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 groped her way to a seat close to the rear. On 
 the screen was a square of light where people in 
 the moonlight were doing unintelligible things, 
 which she comprehended no more than a con- 
 versation of which she might hear the last few 
 words. But there was a soothing quiet here. 
 The darkness was comforting and restful. The 
 tension to which her body and nerves had been 
 put all day relaxed slowly, with a luxurious 
 sense of passing responsibility. She watched 
 the screen idly. Of course she did not care 
 whether the gentleman in evening clothes kissed 
 the lady in the silk dress. But then she did not 
 object to it. It was pleasant to relax thor- 
 oughly, amid silence and darkness, and have 
 even the current of her thoughts directed for her. 
 It was diverting not to have to take sides 
 not to feel that she must either sympathize or 
 condemn. Therefore when the gentleman in 
 the evening clothes and his silk lady had pres- 
 ently faded away and gone back again into the 
 archives of the gentleman over her head, she 
 
 was rather pleased than dismayed to, find the 
 
 119
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 title of the next picture was none other than 
 "Stolen for Wedlock." It tasted of melodrama 
 and of emotions delivered to the consumer as 
 the raw product, but that was perfectly satisfac- 
 tory to her. In fact she was a little disappointed 
 when it turned out not to be painted in the pri- 
 mary colors that the title suggested. It was, 
 instead, one of those painstaking harkings back 
 to the far past that seem to be carried out no- 
 where so minutely as before the cinematograph. 
 The story was the story of the Sabine women. 
 Costume and setting and the archaeology of the 
 subject were treated with an almost too respect- 
 ful deference an almost too apparent striving 
 for metallic accuracy that instead of creating 
 an illusion dispelled it. But the romance of the 
 story was there. That is, indeed an indestruc- 
 tible fabric. 
 
 There was of course embroidered into it a 
 special love story. There was the one girl, 
 more beautiful, naturally, than all the rest, who 
 escaped the throng of Roman youths who 
 
 swept down upon them, and hid in an obscure 
 
 1 20
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 spot, where they all passed her by. All save 
 one. And this one was a great muscular fel- 
 low, of the proportions of an Achilles, who up 
 to this time had found no wife to suit him He 
 discovered her, hiding, and, deciding that she 
 was satisfactory, carried her off with him, holding 
 her lithe, slender body in his sturdy arms as if 
 she were but a child. She was terror-stricken. 
 
 " Do you suppose," exclaimed a damsel be- 
 hind Deborah, suddenly, " I'd let a man carry 
 me off like that ? I'd slap him." 
 
 Whereupon the Sabine girl, almost as if 
 stung into action by this comment, struggled 
 valiantly for freedom. But the man simply 
 held her firmly in his arms and gazed at her 
 calmly, until she saw the futility of resistance 
 and lay there quiet and exhausted. Then he 
 carried her off. 
 
 The sequel of the story was that she lived 
 with him as his wife. She was forced to. His 
 strength left no alternative. But he was kind 
 to her ; and, in the end, she learned to love 
 
 him for his power and for his domination over 
 
 121
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 her, as well as for his fine character. After 
 the picture was finished, Deborah sat for a few 
 moments. Then she rose and went out upon 
 the street. 
 
 " Most women are like that," she said, " espe- 
 cially I myself. I am a true Sabine." 
 
 She sat in her room half an hour later. Miss 
 Howell came bustling in, loaded down with an 
 armful of tiny packages, which gave her the 
 appearance of having bought twenty spools 
 of cotton and had them wrapped separately. 
 These packages she set down absently in vari- 
 ous obscure places. Her hat and coat and 
 gloves she took off and threw down with per- 
 fect abandon. In the morning she would 
 doubtless wonder why one glove would be 
 discovered inside a pillow-case and the other 
 in the bottom bureau drawer. Like a presti- 
 digitator she talked all the time as if with the 
 purpose of distracting your attention from these 
 little feats of legerdemain. 
 
 " Oh," she cried, suddenly, " I forgot all 
 
 about it. How did your hearing come off ? " 
 122
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 " Fine," returned Deborah. " Listen to me, 
 Jane. Were these Sabine women you read 
 about in history real people, or was that a 
 fable ? " 
 
 " What a question. Why, they were real." 
 
 "You don't think it was meant as an alle- 
 gory?" observed the other, thoughtfully. "You 
 know what I mean, typifying the fact that 
 sooner or later some great, big, strong man is 
 coming along for every woman to carry her off." 
 
 " I never heard it spoken of that way. What 
 are you driving at anyway, Deborah ? " 
 
 " I'm striving to get your opinion," returned 
 Deborah, smiling. "You know I have been 
 thinking a great deal about the sphere of 
 woman lately. And sometimes I come to the 
 conclusion that there is only one sphere for 
 woman and that's to be contented to be a 
 woman." 
 
 " Every one is isn't she ? " Miss Howell 
 was a little bewildered. 
 
 Deborah shook her head. 
 
 " No. I have it dinned into me that woman 
 123
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 is indistinguishable from man, that she must 
 live like him, and have all his privileges. For 
 this some of them even go so far as to say 
 they will be willing to give up the privileges 
 they now possess as women." 
 
 " Now, I had a cousin in Michigan " 
 
 Deborah put an arm around her shoulder. 
 
 "Just a moment, Jane, before this biography 
 begins. I have something on my mind." 
 
 Jane looked at her full in the eyes. 
 
 " Deborah, are you in love ? " 
 
 " It is impossible for me to be in love. I 
 signed a paper saying I wouldn't." 
 
 Jane brightened. 
 
 "But suppose this great, strong man you 
 say comes into every woman's life comes into 
 yours. What are you going to do ? " 
 
 The other stretched out her arms. 
 
 "That's it What was the answer to that 
 old problem of an irresistible force meeting an 
 immovable object ? " 
 
 She looked amusedly at her companion and 
 
 going over to the closet began to rummage 
 124
 
 ARE YOU IN LOVE
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 amidst a terminal moraine composed of Jane's 
 shoe-trees, bedroom slippers, overshoes, polish- 
 ing outfit, old letters and a score of things that 
 lady had been hunting for for the past week, in 
 search of a pair of pumps. 
 
 "What is it that is on your mind?" de- 
 manded Jane. 
 
 " Nothing, nothing 1 " replied Deborah, on 
 her knees in the closet. " But did you ever 
 feel, Jane, as though you were going two ways 
 at once ? " 
 
 " That's one of the symptoms of intoxication, 
 isn't it?" demanded the other, seriously. 
 
 Her companion laughed, and dragged out 
 her shoes. 
 
 " Not quite," she said, slipping her feet into 
 the soft leather things. " It's the difference be- 
 tween what your mind wants to do and what 
 the atom inside you wants to do. You can 
 figure a thing out very minutely and thor- 
 oughly in your mind and decide on the direc- 
 tion you intend to go, but suddenly you find 
 
 there is something in your nature that holds 
 
 125
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 your feet to the ground so you cannot take a 
 step. I have been trying to make myself view 
 the world as if I were a man and I find in the 
 end I am a woman." 
 
 " Why, Deborah, are you going to turn anti- 
 suffrage ? " 
 
 Deborah fumbled absently among the things 
 in her bureau drawer. 
 
 " I am going to turn nothing," she said. " I 
 intend to go through to the finish as I started 
 out. If there is something stronger in me that 
 takes my own personal interest out of the cause, 
 that is no reason to back water. The cause is 
 the same and I am in it to stay." 
 
 Jane looked at her companion with transpar- 
 ent astuteness. 
 
 " Do you regret your celibacy pledge?" she 
 asked. 
 
 Deborah laughed and took from the drawer 
 a cascade of lace to put at her throat. 
 
 " Why should I ? " she asked. 
 
 Jane glanced at her watch, and forgot the 
 
 conversation. 
 
 126
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 " Mercy ! " she exclaimed, " if I am going out 
 to-night, I must hurry to dinner. Where is my 
 pocketbook? I have to pay Mrs. Prouty." 
 
 " Right there in the waste paper basket, to- 
 gether with the rest of the things you just 
 threw into it," sighed Deborah. 
 
 Jane smiled happily and stewed about with 
 an air of great haste, gathering together all the 
 things she thought she might need, like a man 
 preparing for a dash to the Pole. Finally, the 
 door closed behind her, and she seemed to be 
 gone. But that was a mere figment of the im- 
 agination. In a moment there she stood again 
 in the doorway. Perhaps it was her astral self 
 projected there by some miraculous piece of 
 metaphysics. But no. 
 
 " I have forgotten my pocketbook after all," 
 she said. 
 
 It was the real, flesh and blood Jane 1 
 
 " Do you know, Deborah," she cried, look- 
 ing in the purse anxiously, "there ought to 
 be six dollars in here instead of five. I'll tell 
 
 you why. When I bought my green veil yes- 
 
 127
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 terday you know the ones we saw in the win- 
 dow for ninety-eight cents the girl gave me a 
 five dollar bill, three ones, a fifty cent piece, a 
 quarter, two ten cent pieces, a nickel and two 
 pennies. Then I went into Stein's and gave the 
 man a dollar and one of the fifty cent pieces 
 and the change he gave me " 
 
 Deborah arose quickly. 
 
 " If you start to tell me about all the change 
 you were given yesterday, Jane dear, you will 
 never get your dinner." 
 
 "But I wanted to explain why I ought to 
 have another dollar," objected the other, wor- 
 ried. 
 
 " Go get your dinner," counseled Deborah. 
 " It will all come to you as an inspiration." 
 
 Finally she was gone. Deborah sat in her 
 chair by the window. She would go to her 
 dinner later. She did not feel that she could 
 listen to the pompous compliments of the 
 Colonel or the idle chatter of Mr. Derry. She 
 would go down when they had gone. It is true 
 
 that her coffee would be cold then, as would be 
 
 128
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 the tiny scraps of vegetables in the dishes ; and 
 perhaps the meat would be entirely gone. But 
 sometimes one has to sacrifice bodily comfort to 
 peace of mind. It occurred to her that what 
 she would really like would be a dinner some- 
 where where there was a stiff white cloth on the 
 table with the folds straight and sharp as a knife 
 edge, candles on the table, music far enough off 
 not to interfere with the pleasure of eating yet 
 audible enough to give the idea of festivity. 
 Perhaps it would be advisable to have them 
 play Shubert's Serenade. Oysters flavored with 
 Shubert have more the feeling of lyrical cry, 
 more that touch of subtle melancholy which is 
 part of the nature of the animal. Then there 
 would be food brought in under great silver 
 covers, preserving the air of mystery as to its 
 identity the air of uncertainty that piques the 
 palate. If you allow yourself to reflect that the 
 personage masquerading under the alias of the 
 Duke of Filet Mignon Rudesheimer is no one 
 but plain old Mr. Tenderloin, it spoils the whole 
 
 setting. All this Deborah reflected would be 
 
 129
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 much more satisfactory than sitting at Mrs. 
 Prouty's table, where the napkin she had used 
 yesterday at dinner lay at her place clutched in 
 a clothes-pin on which was written her name, 
 where on the wall opposite her was a lithograph 
 of a basket of fruit, wrinkled in its frame as if it 
 had been exposed to the weather or defective 
 plumbing pipes, and where her plate careened 
 like a vessel at sea because her place was just 
 at that subtle point where the tables which 
 formed Mrs. Prouty's festive board joined. Per- 
 haps it would be more enjoyable to-night for 
 her to get her dinner at a little restaurant down- 
 town. 
 
 She reached for her book, and putting her 
 feet upon the chair before her, in an unladylike 
 but thoroughly comfortable manner, settled her- 
 self to read. The glint of the rising moon fell 
 on the window sill. She read no word in the 
 book, but let it lay comfortably in her lap, a 
 treasure-house to be consulted when the spirit 
 moved her. She gazed out upon the white 
 circle in the sky ; and as she looked she saw the 
 
 130
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 shadow of her own head cast by the gas light 
 on the brick wall opposite. She smiled won- 
 dering if a certain gentleman could have recog- 
 nized her by that silhouette. 
 
 Suddenly she sat rigid, still listening. 
 
 Of course it could not be a footstep on the 
 roof crunching the pebbles. It would have been 
 impossible for her to have heard such a thing 
 through the thickness of the roof and height of 
 the attic space. Besides, it was quite imma- 
 terial to her if it were the crunching of a foot- 
 step. If they were the footsteps of Mr. John 
 Lea, he was beyond her horizon. He repre- 
 sented several things she was sailing with all 
 speed away from. Her duty and self-respect 
 her manhood, she was about to tell herself re- 
 quired her to put space between her and this 
 man. He was the gulf stream that carried her 
 out of her course. Farewell, Mr. Lea. 
 
 She took up her book. There was a strange 
 tapping at the window where she sat. She lis- 
 tened. The tapping continued. She raised 
 the window and there, hanging by a string,
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 suspended from heaven, was a white piece of 
 paper rolled into a little cylinder and swinging 
 against the glass. 
 
 " Dear Miss Carver," it said, " to-night the 
 moon is full." 
 
 132
 
 CHAPTER XI 
 
 TO-NIGHT the moon was full ! 
 She held the paper in her hand. She 
 had never seen his handwriting before, with its 
 small upright characters carefully made, and the 
 whole sentence arranged neatly on the sheet. 
 It was an exciting event. But suppose the 
 moon were full ? 
 
 She rose and went to the palsied table that 
 served her as a desk. With her pencil in her 
 hand she stood irresolute, and her eye wandered 
 to the tightly-closed trap-door over her bureau. 
 She shook her head and leaning over the table 
 wrote beneath his sentence. 
 
 " Isn't it beautiful ? " she wrote. " I love to sit 
 in this warm spot and watch it." 
 
 She fastened this to the dangling string, 
 whereupon it disappeared immediately. She 
 settled herself again in her chair and propped 
 her feet upon the one before her. 
 
 133
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 " I shall not take them down," she asserted, 
 " until he has gone from the roof." 
 
 She read a page of print that is, her eyes 
 performed that duty for her. But had there 
 been any great message of truth on that page 
 as there must be on every page of every 
 really important book, since Mr. H. G. Wells 
 has brought forth the theorem that it is sinful 
 to write a book which amuses people it was 
 lost upon her ; and probably she will never 
 again have a chance to make up that loss. 
 Her mind whose nimble feet rested on no re- 
 straining chair was on the roof in the moon- 
 light. 
 
 A long pause. She heard no sound above as 
 of footsteps retreating. Then again the swing- 
 ing thing appeared and tapped upon her window 
 pane. She watched it interestedly as it swung 
 there, her hands folded in her lap. After a 
 little while she reached out and took it in her 
 hand. 
 
 " Try a coat," said the paper. " Will you 
 come ? " 
 
 134
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 " No," she wrote beneath it and tied it again 
 to the string. 
 
 She waited for him to go away. He did not 
 go away. The string descended again. 
 
 " Dinner together," it suggested. " I know 
 of a warm place with an artificial moon in the 
 ceiling." 
 
 " Thank you, no," she wrote. " I have been 
 brought up to hate artificial moons." 
 
 It is impossible to estimate what pangs that 
 reply cost her. Here was her chance to have 
 white table-cloths and Shubert's Serenade with 
 oysters. But her two feet moved not an inch 
 upon the chair before her. 
 
 Again the string descended. 
 
 " I will wait for you by the street corner," it 
 said. " You may choose your own moon." 
 
 She returned it without comment. 
 
 His retreating footsteps crunched upon the 
 gravel. He was gone. It rather accentuated 
 the humor of the situation that he should be 
 waiting for her at the street corner. That made 
 it possible for her to exhibit her control by re- 
 
 135
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 straining her impulses for half an hour longer. 
 It would be too late then to go to dinner. 
 What did that matter ? She would do without 
 dinner. She would put temptation behind her. 
 
 She kicked off her pumps and unfastened the 
 hooks of her dress, which presently lay in a circle 
 about her feet. It had been many a day since 
 she had been sent to bed without her supper. 
 She thought grimly that it was the best discipline 
 for her. 
 
 " If I am dressed for bed," she said, as she 
 hung her clothes in the closet, " I shall certainly 
 meet no man on the street corner to-night." 
 
 She thrust her bare feet into slippers and drew 
 on her kimono. She felt safe now. 
 
 Mrs. Prouty appears at the door. 
 
 " Are you ill, Miss Carver ? " she exclaims. 
 
 " No." 
 
 " You did not come down to your dinner. I 
 am worried about you. You are sure you are 
 not ill?" 
 
 " Perfectly sure." 
 
 " Though I don't know why you are not ill. 
 136
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 Think of a girl signing a pledge not to get 
 married. I am a plain woman " this was un- 
 doubtedly true, Mrs. Prouty's face not having 
 been designed as a decoration " but / say that 
 a woman's place in life is to marry and have chil- 
 dren. All these suffragists, and feminists and 
 old-maidists are not natural. I believe in a 
 woman being advanced in her thoughts, but I 
 say she oughtn't to turn her back on the duties 
 the Lord laid down for her." 
 
 " You are not modern enough, Mrs. Prouty. 
 The Lord laid down some duties for some 
 women and other duties for others. I am help- 
 ing in a great movement for the benefit of all 
 women." 
 
 " Don't tell me ! " said Mrs. Prouty. " The 
 greatest advantage about the suffrage is the ex- 
 citement of getting it." 
 
 Deborah smiled. 
 
 "When my youngest son," went on Mrs. 
 Prouty, " was a boy, he always harped on getting 
 a rocking-horse. Nothing would do but he 
 must have a rocking-horse. It was rocking- 
 
 137
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 horse, rocking-horse, day and night until he got 
 it. And then he rocked on it a few times and 
 at the end of a week he would have nothing to 
 do with it. That's the way I say the women 
 are going to be with this suffrage question." 
 
 Mrs. Prouty at length disappeared, as all 
 Mrs. Prouty s will in the course of time. Deb- 
 orah thought of the man outside. The clock 
 on her bureau said half-past seven. How long 
 would he wait on the street corner? It had 
 been a half hour now since he had left the roof. 
 Surely he would not wait much longer. 
 
 Presently one of the other boarders in the 
 house rapped on the door and said some one 
 wanted to speak to her on the telephone. Her 
 heart gave a bound. But he could not be tele- 
 phoning, for he did not know Mrs. Prouty's 
 name. The telephone was in the dark space at 
 the foot of the stair. She pattered down, her 
 heart full of excitement. But it was not John 
 Lea. Instead it was Bobby Mitchell. 
 
 " Listen, Debby," said he, " what are you do- 
 ing?" 
 
 138
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 There was a caress in every sentence Bobby 
 spoke to a girl. He stroked her with his con- 
 versation. 
 
 " Principally nothing," responded Deborah, 
 not feeling it advisable to tell him exactly. 
 
 " Let's go somewhere." 
 
 She laughed. 
 
 " I can't," she cried. " I I haven't had my 
 dinner yet." 
 
 This was a good excuse. 
 
 "That's me. We'll go together," replied 
 Bobby, promptly. 
 
 Deborah gasped. 
 
 " Bobby, one dinner is enough for you." 
 
 " I can get along with it, but two is better for 
 me." 
 
 " You're perfectly silly." 
 
 " How about that ? Is it a go ? " 
 
 She hesitated. 
 
 " I have to eat," she said at length. " Well, 
 all right." 
 
 " Bully. I'll be there in thirteen minutes." 
 
 Deborah hung up her receiver. 
 139
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 " I wish I hadn't done that," she said. 
 
 She went up to her room and tore into her 
 clothes. There hung the string dangling be- 
 side her window. Why hadn't she gone with 
 him when he had asked her ? It was her pride. 
 She had been afraid to acknowledge that she 
 was a Sabine. She had been afraid to acknowl- 
 edge that she had wanted to go with him. That 
 act would not have brought confusion upon the 
 whole suffragist cause. Nor would it have 
 proved what she feared in her heart, that for 
 once she had found a person whose wish she 
 was only too willing to follow. 
 
 She turned low her light and stumbled down 
 the dark stairs. It was almost time for Bobby 
 to arrive. She sat on the hall-seat in the dim, 
 religious light. 
 
 " I hope he doesn't come," she said. 
 
 She went out upon the front steps to look for 
 him. No machine was in sight. The streets to 
 
 north and south were empty, except She 
 
 stood perfectly rigid on the steps. Beneath the 
 
 lamp at the street corner, his cane tucked un- 
 
 140
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 der his arm, his hands thrust deep into his 
 pockets, his head bent, paced John Marshall 
 Lea, with true Mohammedan patience, waiting. 
 She stared at him. Her eyes filled. She stood 
 for a moment hesitating and then ran into the 
 house. 
 
 " Mrs. Prouty," she said to that person com- 
 ing down the stairs, " if Mr. Mitchell comes, 
 tell him I couldn't wait. I will explain to him 
 later." 
 
 She closed the door and ran lightly down the 
 steps. She hurried along the sidewalk to the 
 corner and laying her fingers on the soft woolly 
 fabric of his coat sleeve, said : 
 
 " And where shall we go ? " 
 
 141
 
 CHAPTER XII 
 
 HE turned toward her. An expression of 
 surprised wonder lit up his face. He 
 held out his hand and she felt his slender fingers 
 clasp hers in a firm grip. 
 
 " The same moon," he observed, waving his 
 other hand with a smile toward the sky, " that 
 we were speaking of." 
 
 She looked up at the circle thoughtfully. 
 
 " I thought," she said, " you would have 
 grown tired and be gone by now." 
 
 " And peradventure I should," he returned, 
 " in the course of another hour or so." 
 
 She glanced at him with an unaccustomed 
 shyness and laughed. 
 
 "Your first question to me," he went on, 
 " which I do not as yet seem to have found 
 time to answer, was as to where we should go. 
 Have you any preference ? " 
 
 " None at all." 
 
 142
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 A taxicab turned the corner and rolled down 
 the street with an air of uninhabited loneliness. 
 Lea made a sign with his cane and the car 
 stopped at the curb. Deborah stepped in. 
 
 " Congress Hall," he said, addressing the 
 driver. " I hope you don't mind," he contin- 
 ued, when he sat beside her, "a hotel away 
 down there on the shores of the Caribbean Sea. 
 They have jolly things to eat." 
 
 " I prefer it to be a little secluded. I feel as 
 if I were doing an adventurous thing in appear- 
 ing coolly in public with you." 
 
 " Never mind. I'll wager Molly Pitcher used 
 to meet Lord Cornwallis for a quiet dinner oc- 
 casionally when no one was looking. All you 
 great women of history have to have your fling." 
 
 She smiled. 
 
 " You did not tell me," she observed, irrele- 
 vantly, " that there was a circle around our 
 moon. It is going to snow." 
 
 " Let the blizzard come now that you are 
 safely here." 
 
 " Why did you want to see me ? " she asked, 
 143
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 glancing curiously at him out of the corners of 
 her eyes. 
 
 " Why, indeed ? " he returned. " Isn't a con- 
 gressman to be allowed sunshine in his life ? I 
 had to see you. It was a natural law, like the 
 law of gravitation." 
 
 A faint flush came out on her cheeks 
 
 " Why was it so imperative just now ? " she 
 murmured. 
 
 He looked at her smiling. 
 
 " All my life," he said, half to himself, " seems 
 to be just now." 
 
 The machine drew up at a porte-cochere. 
 
 " The port of entry," he announced, " of the 
 Caribbean Sea." 
 
 Within, they sat down at the identical table 
 she had thought about, with folds in the snowy 
 cloth straight and sharp. And when the defer- 
 ential Ganymede, with his book, bent over Mr. 
 Lea, she was thrilled to hear the exciting mys- 
 teries he was directed to write on the sheet. 
 
 " I am thoroughly excited," she exclaimed. 
 
 " One of the greatest pleasures," he said, 
 
 144
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 " of being 1 young and twenty-six, is the still-re- 
 maining talent you have to give yourself over 
 to high spirits." 
 
 " Young and twenty-six," she exclaimed, as 
 though she would call attention to the contrast 
 of the words. But for the first time in a long 
 while she felt the blood in her veins was in- 
 deed young. 
 
 A clock somewhere was striking eight when 
 the advance guard of their dinner bore down 
 upon them. If it is ill-bred to be hungry, Deb- 
 orah was in very bad form that night. She 
 confessed to him presently that such a dinner 
 had been the thing she was thinking of when 
 she should have been sitting at Mrs. Prouty's 
 board. 
 
 " And when I asked her," he exclaimed, 
 " she cried ' No ' as briskly as she could 1 " 
 
 She bent over her plate. 
 
 " Don't you know what a woman's ' No ' is 
 said to mean ? " she murmured, without look- 
 ing up. 
 
 " Until this moment I didn't. But in the fu- 
 H5
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 ture I shall remember it. I may need to re- 
 member it," he added. 
 
 He looked at her steadily. She raised her 
 eyes until they met his. 
 
 " But sometimes," she said, smiling sweetly, 
 " it means ' No.' " 
 
 " Doubtless if a fellow could but determine 
 when." 
 
 Presently a tall, distinguished gentleman, 
 whose features were strangely familiar to Deb- 
 orah, perhaps from having seen them repro- 
 duced in the papers, rose from a table near 
 them. It was hard to tell in what the distinc- 
 tion of him lay. There was a carelessness 
 about his dress, as though that were one of the 
 smaller things in life he found not quite enough 
 time to care for. The distinction was perhaps 
 in the softness of his eye and the firmness of 
 his mouth, Deborah would have taken him 
 for a great man anywhere. 
 
 He glanced about him, and when his eye fell 
 upon her companion, he smiled, with a frank 
 
 air of pleasure. Deborah's heart beat faster 
 
 146
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 with a violent pride she could not suppress for 
 the man before her. The distinguished gentle- 
 man came to their table, holding out his hand 
 to Lea. When Lea introduced him to her, she 
 found he was indeed the great man she had 
 supposed he was. 
 
 " I imagine Mr. Lea is endeavoring to poison 
 your mind against the doctrine of equal suf- 
 frage," he said, with a smile that had a frank 
 and boyish sweetness in it. 
 
 Her companion answered for her. 
 
 " No," he exclaimed, " a long, bitter ' no.' " 
 
 11 1 am of the other persuasion," she said. 
 
 " Ah 1 " returned their visitor, " I sympathize 
 with you. I once said in a speech that women 
 did not need to vote so much as the country 
 needed to have them vote." 
 
 " There," cried Deborah, darting her com- 
 panion a look with an air of triumph she could 
 not help thinking even then was almost con- 
 jugal. She did not see the Great Man glance 
 at her keenly, as though he were trying to de- 
 cide something. 
 
 H7
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 " See, Miss Carver, he's dumb. He has no 
 argument against us. What do you think of 
 it, Lea? Didn't I strike the nail on the head ? " 
 
 " Not at all," returned Lea, smiling. 
 
 The other drew out a chair and sat down. 
 
 " You don't agree with me ?" 
 
 " Your statement is too poetic. It throws a 
 rose-glow over the question, whereas what it 
 really needs is white daylight. The advocates 
 of this cause have something to prove. If they 
 represent it to all women as a duty and a means 
 of obtaining absolute results, they must prove 
 that to them. The test of their case is whether 
 the women themselves support it. Then we can 
 legislate. At present, what data have I as to 
 what the women want when I am asked to vote 
 on an equal suffrage amendment?" 
 
 The Great Man smiled. Lea began to laugh. 
 
 " There are some things concerning women," 
 he went on, " upon which I think Congress 
 could legislate without such data. They might 
 with propriety pass a law that no woman's 
 
 gown should have more than twenty-four hooks 
 148
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 and eyes up the back, for most congressmen 
 have to fasten their wives' dresses. All the 
 data in that case is at their finger-tips, so to 
 speak. But not so the suffrage." 
 
 " Isn't it the duty of Congress, then, to find 
 out about it ? " asked the Great Man. 
 
 Lea's eyes brightened. 
 
 " I think so. I have prepared a bill I shall 
 one day introduce into Congress which provides 
 that women shall once a year vote upon the 
 question of the suffrage. When a majority 
 favors it, the suffrage is to become a law. If no 
 majority favors it after five votes, the matter 
 will be dropped and the people in the country 
 allowed to rest and recuperate." 
 
 Deborah laughed. 
 
 "He speaks of the question as if it were the 
 great London plague." 
 
 Their visitor rose. 
 
 " You and I have to smile, Miss Carver, at 
 the way it has undermined his reason. How- 
 ever, upon all other questions I feel he is a re- 
 markable young man." 
 
 149
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 He shook hands with them both. Then turn- 
 ing to her with a quizzical smile, he said : 
 
 " I am sure I shouldn't worry about what he 
 said on the subject of the twenty-four hooks and 
 eyes. I scarcely think he means it." 
 
 He bowed gravely and took his departure. 
 
 For some reason Deborah blushed red as the 
 flowers before her. 
 
 ISO
 
 CHAPTER XIII 
 
 WHEN they came out upon the pavement 
 it was snowing. The white flakes swirled 
 along the street. The automobiles, drawn up 
 at the curb, were covered with a thin layer of 
 white. In the angle of the wall chauffeurs stood, 
 their fur collars drawn up about their ears. 
 There was in the air the pleasant silence that 
 comes with falling snow. As she looked up the 
 flakes seemed to come suddenly out of nowhere 
 at all. 
 
 " We had best go in," said he, " until I can get 
 a machine." 
 
 But she ran quickly down the steps. 
 
 " Oh, no," she cried. " I want to walk a 
 little." 
 
 Out from beneath the shelter of the marquise, 
 the falling flakes dropped upon her upturned 
 face and her hair. Her twenty-six years became
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 thirteen at the touch of it. Will the memory 
 of that childish ecstasy that was once wont to 
 appear simultaneously with the first fall of snow 
 ever vanish entirely from us ? 
 
 The white things began industriously to build 
 a superimposed dome upon Lea's hat. Their 
 shoulders and the fronts of their coats were 
 powdered as if they were some baker's products 
 dusted with sugar. As they walked they kicked 
 little storms of snow before them. 
 
 The office building of the House, cold and 
 white, with the still whiter high light of the 
 storm on its balustrades and sills, threw a warm 
 yellow light from its windows on the lacy 
 covering that lay without. The Library of 
 Congress, a-sprinkle with lights behind the net- 
 work of trees, reared its gilt dome indistinctly 
 through the flurrying snow. The myriad of 
 tree branches gathered snow, evergreens thrust 
 their heads solemnly into white cowls, know- 
 ing all the while they were no better than just 
 ordinary trees, the homely copings and posts 
 
 of the Capitol grounds took on a coat of ermine 
 
 152
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 and stood transformed like the ugly duckling 
 of old. 
 
 The whitened terraces of the Capitol were as 
 deserted as if no man's foot had ever trod 
 there. She stood for a moment looking up at 
 the west front. The snow clung here and there 
 in patches to the gray stonework of the end 
 wing, but found no lodgment on the smoothly- 
 painted surfaces of the old centre portion, which 
 shone very white in the diffused light of the 
 hidden moon. The great dome reared itself to 
 impossible heights through the falling flakes 
 until its white-crested statue lost itself against 
 the sky. 
 
 " All this," she said, " was built so you might 
 have a seat in there." 
 
 He nodded smiling. She stopped by the 
 broad balustrade and wrote : 
 
 John Marshall Lea, 
 
 Speaker of the House of Representatives. 
 
 He laughed good-humoredly. 
 " The snow," he said, " is more truthful. It 
 is beginning already to erase the statement." 
 
 153
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 She looked at the balustrade. 
 
 " Do you often," she asked, " come out and 
 walk on this ? " 
 
 " I should be afraid." 
 
 "I'm not." 
 
 She put her hand on his shoulder and raised 
 herself to the broad, flat surface. He held the 
 hand as he would a child's and walked beside 
 her, captivated by her youth. The spirit of it 
 was contagious. The hand carried a not quite 
 understood emotion down to him, as though 
 that contact had completed a circuit that had 
 long been broken. 
 
 She smiled at him. It seemed then as if the 
 rest of the world had purposely left them alone 
 there in this place which hundreds of people 
 crowded daily and which now was left solely to 
 them. The Capitol of the United States was 
 their possession for the moment. To him it 
 seemed, in a fine exhilaration, as if the whole 
 world was theirs. She appeared to feel what was 
 in his mind. She stood still, and leaned over, 
 supporting herself with a hand on his shoulder. 
 
 154
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 "What were you thinking?" she asked, 
 gently. 
 
 He caught the hand both hands in his 
 own. 
 
 "I am thinking now," he said, laughing, 
 "that I am in possession of you." 
 
 " Are you ? " she asked. 
 
 He looked up eagerly. 
 
 "Didn't you say a moment ago that the god- 
 dess on the dome was lost in the clouds ? " he 
 said. " I think she is here." 
 
 She smiled down at him. 
 
 " I like your conversation," she cried. " I 
 must come down." 
 
 She bore her weight on her arms and 
 dropped lightly to the pavement beside him. 
 
 " It isn't necessary," she continued, sweetly, 
 looking calmly at him, her face quite near to 
 him, " to hold my hands now." 
 
 " It was not necessity," he returned, calmly, 
 " that was the mother of this inventioh in the 
 first place." 
 
 He placed her hands together before her so 
 J55
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 that she had the air of Joan of Arc receiving 
 the blessing of the angel, and reluctantly with- 
 drew his own. There was a moment of silence. 
 She stood there unmoving, as if, as she thought 
 to herself presently, she felt to move would des- 
 troy the pleasant memory of his touch. When 
 she found herself thinking that, she moved im- 
 mediately and destroyed the picture. 
 
 " Apropos of nothing," he asked, " why did 
 you make that promise ? " 
 
 She understood perfectly well the promise he 
 referred to. So she said : 
 
 " What promise ? " 
 
 He smiled. 
 
 " Had I made such a promise," he asserted, 
 " it would have driven the thought of all other 
 promises I might ever have made forever from 
 my mind." 
 
 " Then I think, man-like, you refer to a cer- 
 tain promise I made relative to my marriage. 
 A mere trifle." 
 
 She waved her hand with a perfection of non- 
 chalance, but she did not look at him. 
 
 156
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 " Look at me," he said. 
 
 " It is one of my joys," she returned, bowing 
 with a mocking smile. 
 
 " Look at me and say again what you said 
 about the promise," he persisted. 
 
 She backed up against the balustrade, with 
 a fascinating air of defending herself. The eyes 
 that met his held nothing but impudence. 
 
 " I told you once," she observed at length. 
 
 " But I trust you will pardon me not the 
 truth." 
 
 "Sir!" 
 
 He laughed. 
 
 " Look at me again. Was it true ? " 
 
 Her elbows rested gently on the balustrade 
 behind her. 
 
 "I will look at you forever," she mur- 
 mured, not doing so, " but I answer no ques- 
 tions." 
 
 " None at all ? " 
 
 With the toe of her shoe she traced a pattern 
 that went impudently close to him as he stood 
 there. 
 
 157
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 " Absolutely none," she said, presently, look- 
 ing up. 
 
 " I am sorry," he returned, " for I had a very 
 important one to ask." 
 
 She took his cane from him and began more 
 designs in the snow. But she did not answer. 
 She did not look up. The snow fell gently, 
 but she was scarcely aware of it. He gazed at 
 her intently. 
 
 " I think you know what it is." 
 
 " I know what it is ? " she asked, studying in- 
 tently the head of his cane. 
 
 " I wish you would look at me," he said, in a 
 low tone. 
 
 She tilted her chin up. All the impudence 
 was suddenly gone. She knew too well what 
 his question would have been. A subtle un- 
 derstanding carried the glorious, vibrating 
 chords of the music in his breast to the very 
 vaults of her soul. The mist in her eyes drove 
 all the impudence from them. The red lips, 
 once smiling, now quivered with tears that 
 
 seemed to rise in her throat. 
 
 158
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 He stood awed by the force of the storm 
 within him. And then with no word, no futile 
 human word, to express the great gift of Heaven 
 that abode within him, solemn and glorious and 
 wonderful, he closed his arms, like protecting 
 things, about her. 
 
 The wind blew the snow across the silent ter- 
 races of the Capitol. The noisy, lighted city, 
 lying spread out there at the foot of the hill, 
 made no sound behind the muffling blanket of 
 falling snowflakes. All was quiet. Two living 
 people inhabited the world. 
 
 159
 
 CHAPTER XIV 
 
 SHE broke from his embrace like some start- 
 led animal and ran excitedly along the ter- 
 race toward the steps that led down to the 
 street. Her only idea, quickly formed, was to 
 escape him. She put her wet glove to her face 
 and brushed away impatiently the moisture 
 from her eyes. She ran not from the man be- 
 hind her but from what was in his heart. But 
 from what was in her own heart she could not 
 escape. 
 
 He followed but leisurely, knowing with his 
 unerring perception what force had broken 
 loose within her. But she ran on, hoping to 
 escape, carrying, as she was, all the trouble with 
 her. Down the long, slippery steps she ran, 
 scarcely touching the iron rail with her hand. 
 Two steps on the landing and down the next 
 
 flight. At the bottom the world seemed to slip 
 
 1 60
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 from under her and she found herself suddenly 
 sitting in the snow her foot, with electric cur- 
 rents running through it, bent under her. 
 
 Walking with much less than her speed be- 
 hind her, he saw her fall and fear gave wings to 
 his feet. He stood by her side. 
 
 " Don't touch me," she cried. " Don't touch 
 me," and burst into tears. 
 
 " You're hurt," he said, gently. 
 
 " I'm not," she exclaimed, staggering to her 
 feet. 
 
 She wavered pathetically and would have 
 fallen had he not caught her. She held to 
 him. 
 
 " Just when I want to be miles from you and 
 the sound of your voice," she cried, bitterly, 
 " here I am, a foolish cripple." 
 
 He tore off his coat and spread it on the steps. 
 
 " Sit on that," he said, with a roughness that 
 gave her confidence. She sat upon it. 
 
 He bent over her and touched her ankle 
 tentatively. 
 
 " Hurt ? " he said. 
 
 161
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 " No." 
 
 " There ? " 
 
 " No." 
 
 "There?" 
 
 She winced. 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 He found his handkerchief and bound it 
 tightly about the place. 
 
 " First aid to the injured. Can't make it any 
 worse," he said. 
 
 He stood up and gave the situation thought. 
 For a moment she felt the luxurious joy of leav- 
 ing herself and the conduct of the affair entirely 
 to him. Then her indignation at her helpless- 
 ness caught up to her and she sat with com- 
 pressed lips, which he attributed to the pain in 
 her foot. He frowned. 
 
 " Must get you away from here," he rumi- 
 nated, aloud. " Cabs, taxicabs, street cars don't 
 run up these steps, though." 
 
 Chagrin, anger at herself, mortification, and 
 a still unquenched tiny fountain of joy that 
 
 bubbled into the midst of the sombreness within 
 
 162
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 her, left her silent sitting there on his coat, re- 
 belling at the submission of her attitude. 
 
 " I must carry you," he said, desperately. 
 
 She did not reply. 
 
 " Please stand up." 
 
 She made no move. 
 
 " You can't sit here forever," he cried, " like 
 the choragic monument of Lysicrates." 
 
 Unexpectedly, she laughed. Then grasping 
 the rail beside her, she stood up. 
 
 " Your coat. Put it on. You're cold." 
 
 " I'm not. I'm hot with embarrassment." 
 
 She laughed again a clear, silvery, suddenly 
 happy laugh. 
 
 "At what?" 
 
 " At having to carry a lady who doesn't want 
 me to." 
 
 She put her arm gently on his shoulder. 
 
 " I do," she whispered. 
 
 The touch of him froze her to ice. He car- 
 ried a limp, heavy burden toward the street. 
 Her lips, so close to his face that he could feel 
 her warm breath, said no word. He set her 
 
 163
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 down presently on the coping by the gateway ; 
 and, putting two fingers to his lips, whistled 
 into the night. 
 
 They waited with the tense air of castaways, 
 hoping for a passing ship. Again and again he 
 whistled to the world beyond the falling snow. 
 They were cold now and wet. 
 
 " If a man comes by," he said, " I'll send him 
 to telephone." 
 
 And then out of the storm, like a full-rigged 
 barkentine coming through a fog, came an an- 
 cient but honorable night-liner. It was not 
 much of a cab and it was much less of a horse, 
 but it moved it felt the breath of life, as it 
 were. Even they, captious critics that they 
 were, could see that it moved ; and, being 
 dirigible as well, it was as a gift from heaven. 
 
 He carried her across the sidewalk and put 
 her comfortably on the cushions of the musty 
 cabriolet. The door slammed, the driver shook 
 renewed vigor into his steed and they all 
 rumbled into motion. 
 
 She sat silent in her corner, disgusted with 
 164
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 herself, hating him, fascinated with him, won- 
 dering at the kaleidoscope of emotions that ran 
 through her breast, alternating from cold to 
 fever, siding with him, siding against him, de- 
 spising herself, encouraging herself, wondering 
 that she should be so happy. The pain in her 
 ankle was but a small part of the ills that dis- 
 turbed her so small a part that she was scarcely 
 aware of it. 
 
 The lights without moved by, shining on the 
 snow-covered windows. They rode in silence, 
 she with her foot propped up on the opposite 
 seat and her hands clasped tightly in her lap, 
 he with folded arms and clouded brow. Pres- 
 ently without moving, without looking at her, 
 he said : 
 
 " I respect your promise. I do not ask you 
 to break it mere trifle though it is." 
 
 She wondered what she could say to him. 
 Her only refuge was in silence. He waited a 
 moment. 
 
 " I am in a strange position," he continued, 
 
 presently. " I want you with all my soul, but I 
 
 165
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 want you, many times more, to keep your 
 pledge, because that is like all the things in you 
 I love." 
 
 Tears stung her eyes. But indignation at 
 them overpowered every other emotion in her. 
 
 " You need have no fears," she said, shortly, 
 " concerning my ability to keep my promise." 
 
 " I have none at all that you will dishonor 
 your ideals," he exclaimed, " but at the same 
 time " 
 
 He stopped. She looked at him wonderingly. 
 He met her eyes. 
 
 " I shall fight till I get you," he said. 
 
 She turned her gaze again out through the 
 snow-obscured panes. 
 
 " You will waste your efforts," she observed, 
 coldly. " I could not break my promise under 
 any circumstances. It would be published all 
 over the country. And one Benedict Arnold 
 would do more harm than a thousand sup- 
 porters could repair. I would rather die than 
 do it." 
 
 He disregarded the frigidity in her tone. 
 1 66
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 " I understand," he said. " I ask no favors. 
 But I find that when I need a thing very badly 
 a lever is put into my hands. I shall come and 
 take you as if you were a Sabine a mere 
 Sabine." 
 
 167
 
 CHAPTER XV 
 
 THE whole story of how and where Deborah 
 sprained her ankle, who the man was that 
 brought her home, how he whoever he was 
 discovered her, whether she had ever seen him 
 before or would know him again if she saw 
 him and a thousand other tantalizing details 
 that the unenlightened members of Mrs. 
 Prouty's boarding-house thirsted to know 
 was never given out to the public. The only 
 information that the curious obtained was Mrs. 
 Prouty's statement a quite insufficient thing. 
 All Mrs. Prouty could say was that on that 
 night about half-past ten or maybe it was 
 eleven there came a ring at the door and a 
 very distinguished gentleman very distin- 
 guished explained that he had found Miss 
 Carver with a sprained ankle and had brought 
 her home. Mrs. Prouty was that excited she 
 1 68
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 had run out in the snow in her second-best 
 dress that spotted if you looked at it. And in 
 front of her very eyes didn't the gentleman lift 
 Miss Carver from the carriage and carry her up 
 the steps into the house and then right on up to 
 her room, the flustered landlady following 
 after. The gentleman was very polite quite 
 the gentleman all the time. He put Miss 
 Carver, wet shoes and all, down on the bed on 
 the coverlet, and then, asking her who her 
 physician was, stepped to the telephone and told 
 him to come leaving a five-cent piece on the 
 table to pay for the call. Then he said good- 
 night with all the dignity of a United States 
 Senator. And the next day a huge box of 
 roses came, and the only thing that was on the 
 card was, " From an admirer." After that every 
 time any one at Mrs. Prouty's table discovered 
 a picture of a senator or a cabinet officer or a 
 foreign ambassador, he showed it to Mrs. 
 Prouty and asked her if it looked like the 
 man. 
 
 But as time passed and no one was ever 
 169
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 identified and Miss Carver's recovery and con- 
 sequent reappearance at the table prevented 
 discussion on the subject, interest began to turn 
 to other things. Jane Howell was greatly dis- 
 tressed that Deborah had not confided in her, 
 but as she felt that it would be useless to try to 
 pry the secret from her, she did not attempt to 
 do so. 
 
 One evening in the early weeks of December, 
 Jane burst into the room. Deborah, whose in- 
 structions were to be careful of her ankle, had 
 been staying in all the afternoon. 
 
 " Deborah," cried Jane, " the bill for the 
 Equal Suffrage amendment was reported to the 
 House this afternoon without recommendation. 
 Every one hoped that the committee would re- 
 port it favorably." 
 
 " Without recommendation, you say ? " de- 
 manded Deborah. 
 
 "Yes. Now, don't you think that was 
 
 strange ? " cried Jane, earnestly. She provided 
 
 in her mind for Congress and governors and 
 
 presidents and cabinet officers a sort of super- 
 
 170
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 etherial code of conduct, based upon the con- 
 victions that grew in her brain ; and when any 
 one of these powers, for some complex reason 
 of expediency, failed to coincide with the course 
 she laid down for him, she knew that it was 
 due to a wilful and culpable perversity. In 
 this case she felt that the congressional com- 
 mittee could very easily have reported favorably 
 upon the bill, but they just happened not to be 
 in the humor. 
 
 " You know, I don't see how they have the 
 face to do such a thing," she went on. " Here 
 are all these women throughout the country 
 waiting and praying, some of them I actually 
 heard of a case in Ohio of a woman who took 
 her husband out on the back lawn and prayed 
 with him all night long for woman's suffrage ; 
 and they both caught cold I should think they 
 would, wouldn't you, just in their night-clothes 
 and nearly died. I should think when Con- 
 gress knows people want the vote as much as 
 that, they would be ashamed not to endorse 
 
 the bill with all their body and soul. I should 
 
 171
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 think they would praise the Lord for the oppor- 
 tunity." 
 
 " Perhaps they conscientiously feel " 
 
 " But you know this isn't conscience. They 
 just don't want to bother with it. I think they 
 don't like to pass bills in Congress unless they 
 happen to think of them of their own accord. 
 They're jealous. They're just afraid that some- 
 body else will get the credit of inventing the 
 bill so they don't pass it at all. I know this 
 because the bookkeeper at our office, who has 
 made a great study of politics he knows all 
 the congressmen and the states they come from 
 and their first names told me about it in con- 
 fidence." 
 
 " Did your source of information state, Jane," 
 asked her companion, " when the bill was to be 
 voted on ? " 
 
 " My source of information was the evening 
 paper I heard the boys calling, ' All about the 
 Suffrage bill,' so I just had to buy a paper, 
 although usually when they say all about any- 
 thing there is only a word or two about it. 
 172
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 But it really did have a long account of the 
 thing to-night I meant to bring the paper 
 home with me, but I happened to leave it at 
 the milliner's when I went in to buy a paper of 
 pins. I left the paper of pins at the post-office 
 while I was writing to Aunt Caroline I knew 
 I simply must write to her on her seventy-third 
 birthday she has been so good to me, sent me 
 that lovely pair of gilt shoe-trees last Christmas. 
 But I don't care. I didn't need the pins any- 
 way I just thought they would be nice to 
 have." 
 
 " Did the paper say anything about when the 
 vote would be taken ? " 
 
 " Oh, yes, that was what I started to tell you. 
 Why, yes, the paper said that an agreement 
 had been reached whereby the bill was to come 
 up for final reading and vote a week from to- 
 day. They just had to do it, you know. Pres- 
 sure has been brought upon them from all over 
 the country. They couldn't afford to delay ; 
 public opinion is aroused." 
 
 " Did your bookkeeper say that ? " 
 
 173
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 " Yes. He said the congressmen were in a 
 delicate position ; they didn't want to vote for 
 the suffrage ; it was inadvisable to vote against 
 it, unless they justified their position ; and they 
 did not dare delay." 
 
 Mrs. Prouty knocked on the door. 
 
 " Some one to see you," she announced, and 
 ushered in Mrs. Dobson without further for- 
 mality, in the same way she would have handed 
 in a package of laundry. Deborah greeted her 
 visitor with enthusiasm. 
 
 " Mercy me," cried Jane. " I had a dinner 
 engagement at six, and it is now a quarter past." 
 
 She rushed to the bed, gathered up her coat, 
 Deborah's umbrella, one glove and her pocket- 
 book and dashed from the room. 
 
 "Goodness," cried Mrs. Dobson, who had 
 been fidgeting about standing on one foot, " I 
 am glad I have more repose of manner than 
 that." 
 
 "What do you think," asked Deborah, 
 " about the action of the committee ? " 
 
 Mrs. Dobson sputtered. 
 174
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 " It's infamous downright infamous and dis- 
 honorable that's what I think. I have given 
 out interviews to the papers to-day saying 
 that's what I think. The congressmen will not 
 enjoy the interviews either. In addition to 
 that I have sent out circular letters to every 
 Equal Suffrage organization in the United 
 States urging them to pass resolutions censur- 
 ing the committee for their action. The plain 
 duty of that committee was to report the bill 
 favorably." 
 
 " That won't put Congress in a very pleasant 
 frame of mind, will it ? " 
 
 " We are not trying to. We are not asking 
 favors. We are demanding our rights. The 
 only diplomacy we propose to use is a great 
 big club." 
 
 " I don't understand the policy of antagoniz- 
 ing them all just now. If it is coming to a vote 
 in a week, I should think you would want to 
 rub them the right way." 
 
 Mrs. Dobson rose from her chair and stood 
 up before the fireplace. 
 
 175
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 " The whole thing," she said, " is all fixed. 
 We have found out all about it." 
 
 " They are going to amend it to death ? " 
 
 41 No, not that. They have decided that 
 would not be advisable. The bill is coming up 
 for the vote just as it stands. But, as I say, it 
 is all fixed. The members will want something 
 to hide behind when they vote against the bill 
 some very impressive, spectacular justifica- 
 tion for their action. They wish to keep under 
 cover until the last minute, run out and vote, and 
 then point righteously to a string of balderdash 
 and say, 4 There is my justification.' The bal- 
 derdash is to be furnished in the shape of a fire- 
 works oration on the floor of the House and 
 the orator is to be John Marshall Lea." 
 
 Deborah looked fixedly at a spot on the rug 
 and said nothing. Mrs. Dobson thrust her 
 glasses up into the region of her hair. 
 
 44 This rascal Lea," she continued, 4< knows 
 
 just how to frame such a speech. I can hear 
 
 him now calling the attention of the House to 
 
 the blessed and divine function of woman, the 
 
 176
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 sanctity of her presence, the glory of her mother- 
 hood, the inscrutable wonder of the plan God in 
 His heaven has laid down for her. And he will 
 caution this distinguished assembly that the 
 hem of her robe must not be dragged in the 
 mire of politics as the result of the action of the 
 House of Representatives. I can first see him. 
 He is a finished orator. There will not be a 
 dry eye in the House. The very ink-wells will 
 weep. The press gallery will be a cohort of 
 frenzied gloom. The linotype machines of their 
 papers back home will shake with sobs. And 
 the evening extras with two-inch high head- 
 lines will bring tears to every fireside in the 
 country. In the wake of that the members can 
 point without nervousness to the fact that they 
 killed the bill." 
 
 Deborah looked helplessly at her companion. 
 She should have risen to the same heights of 
 indignation where dwelt Mrs. Dobson. But no 
 irresistible force carried her there. Instead, the 
 thought of this compelling speech aroused in 
 
 her a thrill of enthusiasm. It was the same 
 
 177
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 thrill, she told herself, that she used to feel when 
 she read of the great orations of the old states- 
 men. 
 
 Mrs. Dobson paced the floor. 
 
 " Something must be done," she said, solilo- 
 quizing. " We must win. We must spring a 
 surprise. We must beat them." 
 
 "But how?" 
 
 " There is only one way. I have tried to 
 think of another. But there is no other." 
 
 Deborah looked at her keenly. 
 
 " What is the way ? " she demanded, faintly. 
 
 Mrs. Dobson sank on the bed. 
 
 " We must get rid of Mr. Lea." Her eyes 
 bored into Deborah. " On that day we must 
 kidnap him." 
 
 There was a silence in the room. An unex- 
 pected wave of hostility against Mrs. Dobson 
 swept over the girl. She felt an impulse to ex- 
 claim indignantly against the other's scheme. 
 But she held herself in hand. 
 
 " But," she said, for the sake of saying some- 
 thing, " they would only postpone the vote." 
 178
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 " They can't. They have agreed to vote a 
 week from to-day. They have promised the 
 country. They will have to do it. Without 
 John Marshall Lea there will be no speech. The 
 wavering members will have nothing to hide be- 
 hind. Driven out in the open they will vote 
 with us." 
 
 Deborah sought for a reply but found none. 
 
 " Well," cried her companion, " what do you 
 think of it?" 
 
 " Isn't kidnapping a man difficult ? " 
 
 " Nothing is difficult. Nothing is impossible. 
 Nothing is even improbable in a good cause." 
 
 " But," cried Deborah, incredulously, " will 
 you simply hit him on the head with a sand- 
 bag and drag him off? " 
 
 Mrs. Dobson laughed comfortably. 
 
 " Oh, no. Finesse, my dear. There are a 
 thousand ways. This is one. Listen. On the 
 night before the vote, it happens that Mrs. 
 Thingumbob I never can remember these so- 
 cial women's names is giving a reception at 
 her country home. Mr. Lea is going in a 
 
 179
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 taxicab. You see what a system I have. I 
 know everything. What is to hinder us, under 
 cover of night on a country road, from whisking 
 him off to a quiet place of retirement ? " 
 
 " Where, for instance ? " asked Deborah, 
 dully. 
 
 " Don't ask me details, child. I don't know. 
 Yes, I do too," she contradicted, suddenly. 
 " Mrs. Devine has a country house somewhere 
 there in Maryland. It is unoccupied. It would 
 make an ideal place for the incarceration of this 
 rascal." 
 
 She rose and paced the floor. Presently she 
 paused and stared fixedly at Deborah. The 
 color rushed to the girl's face. Why was Mrs. 
 Dobson telling her of these plans ? That lady 
 did not usually take others into her confidence 
 to no purpose. 
 
 " What we need," said the older lady, firmly, 
 " is some one to carry this scheme through 
 some young person whose wits work quickly." 
 
 Deborah was hot all over. She could feel 
 
 the flush of a miserable embarrassment sting- 
 180
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 ing her face. She wondered what Mrs. Dobson 
 was thinking. 
 
 "Yes," she said, meeting the other's eyes 
 with an effort. 
 
 "This," said Mrs. Dobson, "is the most im- 
 portant single act in the history of our whole 
 movement. It is the chance of a lifetime for 
 some one to make history to write her name 
 down as the one who almost single-handed 
 made woman's suffrage possible." 
 
 Deborah felt the keen eyes upon her. 
 
 "I suppose, Mrs. Dobson," she said, pres- 
 ently, " you mean me ? " 
 
 "Yes, I do." 
 
 The girl gazed at her folded hands in her lap. 
 
 " What do you wish me to do ? " 
 
 " I want you to work out a plan of kid- 
 napping him and then do it. You can have 
 all the assistance and money and everything 
 else you need." 
 
 Deborah's handkerchief was rolled up in a 
 tight ball in her hands. The palms of those 
 
 hands were moist and nervously clenched. She 
 
 181
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 would have liked to flee from the room and 
 leave Mrs. Dobson and her schemes. She 
 would have liked to run away from the thing 
 inside her, all aflame, that she knew was con- 
 science. It was this conscience that assured 
 her of her own iniquity. Her wrong-doing 
 loomed up mountain high before her. Was 
 she sliding backward, was she failing to keep 
 faith, in her heart, with Mrs. Dobson and all 
 her inspired crusade ? 
 
 Perhaps she felt that before her lay the old, 
 old, irresistible pathway of every woman, the 
 way that God had laid out for her, the way that 
 led to a man that she loved. Perhaps for a 
 moment that mirage eclipsed everything, made 
 the crusade for suffrage seem like something 
 afar off. But it was only for a moment. 
 
 She would not backslide. There was no real 
 earnest fibre in her that urged that What if 
 she did proceed against a man whose memory 
 was a rosy picture, and whose companionship 
 was pleasant nay, exciting to her? What if 
 she did attempt to thwart him ? They were on 
 182
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 equal terms. If he must do his duty, she must 
 also do hers. It seemed like a Spartan remedy, 
 but 
 
 She arose and threw her crumpled handker- 
 chief on the bed. 
 
 "Very well, Mrs. Dobson," she said. "I will 
 help." 
 
 183
 
 CHAPTER XVI 
 
 SIX days later. It was seven o'clock in the 
 evening. To-morrow was the date of the 
 vote upon the Equal Suffrage amendment. 
 The papers had worked the people up to a state 
 of expectation and excitement over the ques- 
 tion. It was being discussed on the street 
 corners, in the shops, everywhere. Even the 
 sudden death of old Senator Hemmingway, one 
 of the foremost figures in public life for many 
 years, failed to furnish a change of topic. 
 
 Deborah was more than excited. She could 
 scarcely wait for the hours to go by. If the 
 thing were only done and over with! She 
 knew she feared that at the crucial moment, if 
 it required quick thought and quick action, her 
 sympathies would be on the wrong side; and if 
 the plans miscarried, she would always blame 
 herself for it. She went into the telephone 
 
 booth at the drug store. Her nerves by this 
 184
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 time were on edge, so that the slamming of the 
 door startled her. 
 
 " Mrs. Dobson," she said, presently, when 
 she got that lady on the telephone, " are you 
 sure about this man ? " 
 
 She could feel the very tension in her voice. 
 
 " Just as sure as I am of the existence of the 
 moon." 
 
 " He knows the proper place ? " 
 
 "Knows it backward, sidewise and front- 
 ward. Don't worry about him. He will carry 
 it off." 
 
 " What does he look like ? " 
 
 " Red-headed Irishman." 
 
 "Has he his badge?" 
 
 " Yes, he has it. Good luck to you. Don't 
 lose your nerve." 
 
 Deborah laughed nervously. She called up 
 Mrs. Devine and asked her an all-important 
 question. 
 
 ^ " Robert will be there at eight o'clock, my 
 dear," Mrs. Devine assured her, " without fail." 
 
 Deborah answered vaguely, and hung up the 
 185
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 receiver. She sat irresolute before the instru- 
 ment, hesitating like one about to plunge into 
 cold water. Then with a feverish haste she 
 took off the receiver and gave a number. 
 
 "Taxicab company?" she asked, in a mo- 
 ment. She could hear her heart beating. 
 
 "Yes." 
 
 She caught her breath. 
 
 " Representative Lea," she began, " has or- 
 dered a taxi for to-night and " 
 
 " Just a moment." There was a pause. 
 " Yes, to-night at eight" 
 
 " Owing to a change in plans," Deborah went 
 on, with cool deliberation, " we wish that 
 countermanded. Will that be satisfactory?" 
 
 " Perfectly," returned the voice, sweetly. 
 " We are always willing to make a change if 
 the service is not needed." 
 
 " Then you will cancel it ? " 
 
 " Certainly. Very glad to do so, Mrs. Lea." 
 
 Deborah drew a long breath. 
 
 ' Thank you," she said, not referring to the 
 title by which she had been addressed. 
 1 86
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 She went back to her room and, with the 
 feeling of a man about to be executed, laid out 
 her only evening gown upon the bed. With it 
 she put her best underclothing and a pair of silk 
 stockings. When Jane bustled into the room 
 fifteen minutes later, she found her roommate, 
 rosy from a lukewarm bath of the usual Prouty 
 temperature, clad in the silk stockings and 
 pumps and a bewildering blaze of lace and rib- 
 bons, just preparing to dive through the skirt 
 of her gown. 
 
 " Mercy, Deborah, where are you going?" 
 
 Deborah smiled with inscrutable mystery. 
 
 " Sporting," she said. 
 
 " With a man ? " 
 
 " What a question ! I am a professional old 
 maid." 
 
 " You didn't tell me you were going out." 
 
 "Didn't I?" 
 
 " Are you going on the street cars ? " 
 
 " No." 
 
 " Where are you going ? " 
 
 " I wish I knew." 
 
 187
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 " Deborah, you've gone crazy." 
 
 " That," said Deborah, " is certainly true. 
 Please hook me up in the back." 
 
 She was finally dressed. She threw a cloak 
 over her shoulders and running across to the 
 drug store once more, again imprisoned herself 
 in the telephone booth. This time there was no 
 jauntiness at all in her manner. Her heart beat 
 with sickening intensity. She could feel the 
 red-hot flush that flooded her from her face 
 down to her very toes. She threw off her 
 cloak, and hunted, with fingers that trembled, 
 for the number in the book. She hurried, yet 
 she was in no haste. There was the number. 
 She gazed at it blankly. She drove herself to 
 lift the receiver from its hook. She gave the 
 number in a strange voice that did not seem her 
 own. A long pause, during which the moan of 
 furies sang on the wire. Presently a voice a 
 clear, sympathetic voice answered her. She 
 wanted to hang up the receiver and fly from 
 that place. But she caught the telephone in- 
 strument in a grip of steel. 
 188
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 " Representative Lea ? " she asked, with a 
 sharpness that surprised her. 
 
 " Yes." The voice was brisk, but pleasantly 
 deep. 
 
 She set her teeth. 
 
 " Taxicab company," she said. " We prom- 
 ised you a cab to-night." 
 
 " Yes. What's the matter ? " 
 
 He could not have recognized her. Nervous- 
 ness and excitement had made her inflections 
 cold as steel. 
 
 " We are short of machines," she replied. " A 
 lady is very anxious to go to Mrs. Meddows' to- 
 night it is almost imperative. Would you 
 mind her going in your machine ? We are 
 sending a touring car she could sit with the 
 chauffeur." 
 
 " Not at all," returned the voice on the wire. 
 " That is perfectly satisfactory. Of course she 
 must not sit with the chauffeur. I will do 
 that." 
 
 Her hand against her face was icy cold. 
 
 " Thank you, Mr. Lea. We are deeply in- 
 189
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 debted to you. Our machine will stop for the 
 lady first." 
 
 She hung up the receiver and covered her 
 face with her hands. 
 
 " I am no conspirator," she said. " I feel as 
 though I had been stretched on the rack for 
 days." 
 
 Twenty minutes later, Mrs. Devine's machine, 
 driven by Robert, her chauffeur, drew up at Mrs. 
 Prouty's door. 
 
 "You understand everything," said Deborah 
 to him. " Mrs. Devine has explained it." 
 
 The man nodded. 
 
 " Yes, Miss Carver. I understand." 
 
 The whole thing seemed ridiculously melo- 
 dramatic and improbable. She took her seat in 
 the corner of the tonneau, feeling as if she ought 
 to have a black mask and a revolver. Robert 
 drove around the square and drew up presently 
 before the house in which John Lea lived. He 
 stepped down and rang the bell. The engine 
 purred softly. A person answered the bell, and 
 promised to inform Mr. Lea. Presently Mr. Lea 
 190
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 appeared. Deborah would have given a thou- 
 sand dollars for the privilege of hiding then 
 under the seat. 
 
 She kept her nerve. She was not one to turn 
 back, once her hand was on the plough. He 
 came to the edge of the pavement. She broke 
 into a merry laugh. 
 
 Lea looked at her. 
 
 " By the heavens ! " he cried. " You I " 
 
 She held out her hand. 
 
 " I never knew anything so ridiculous. I 
 simply had to go and we made this arrange- 
 ment " she burst into a laugh " I never 
 knew anything so embarrassing." 
 
 " Bless your dear heart," he cried, " I'm 
 glad." 
 
 " What can you think of me ? " 
 
 " You know very well," he said, gravely, 
 " what I think of you." 
 
 The blood raced in her veins, but she did not 
 dare to let her mind rest on him. From now 
 on he was simply her legitimate quarry. He, 
 
 being an exalted thing called man, could take 
 
 191
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 care of himself. Let him. He knew which 
 side she was on. She would play the game. 
 
 The car started. She leaned back against 
 the cushions. He gazed at her intently, noting 
 the fine flush of excitement on her cheek, but 
 not guessing its cause. She turned her face 
 full upon him and smiled with easy impudence. 
 The car hurried on, weaving a tortuous course 
 through the city, passing out of the busier whirl 
 of down-town to the quiet of the residential dis- 
 trict, and then to the dim and silent fringe of 
 the city. 
 
 "There is about three hours difference in 
 time between here and down-town," said Lea, 
 thoughtfully. " There the evening was just be- 
 ginning. Here the good folk are ready for bed." 
 
 " Their day's work is over. Ours is start- 
 ing." 
 
 He laughed. 
 
 "What is the matter? " he said. "Not in a 
 very festive humor to-night, are you?" 
 
 " Of course I am." 
 
 " Why didn't you tell me you were coming, 
 192
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 instead of trying to make it all alone like a 
 society reporter ? " 
 
 She smiled. 
 
 " Sh-h-h," she said. 
 
 " You're not really doing that kind of work? " 
 he demanded, quickly. 
 
 " Why else should I have come to a party 
 alone?" 
 
 " I'm sure I don't know." He ruminated a 
 moment. " Some day you won't have to do 
 that sort of thing." 
 
 " What makes you think I shan't ? " 
 
 He looked at her calmly. 
 
 " I'm not going to let you," he said, firmly. 
 
 A bantering reply came to her lips, but she 
 found she did not want to utter it. 
 
 They stopped presently to put up the top, for 
 the wind had begun to blow and there were 
 flakes of snow in the air. 
 
 " When I am with you," he said, "it usually 
 snows." 
 
 " I hope," she said, idly, " it brings us good 
 luck." 
 
 193
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 " As it did before." 
 
 She made no reply. They were out on ma- 
 cadam roads now, flying along in the dark. 
 Their search-light cast a long white finger ahead 
 of them. At a fork in the road the chauffeur 
 turned to the left. 
 
 " You should have kept right on," said Lea. 
 
 " Fixing the road down there, sir," replied 
 Robert, briskly. " We have to make this de- 
 tour." 
 
 " The road isn't very good." 
 
 " Won't last long, sir." 
 
 It was a dark, narrow road lined with trees. 
 They went on and on. After some fifteen 
 minutes of rough riding they came out again 
 on macadam. 
 
 "This doesn't look right to me," observed 
 Lea. 
 
 Robert touched his hat. 
 
 " It's a very long way 'round, sir." 
 
 " You had better put on all the speed you 
 have then. We are a little late now." 
 
 In response, the machine shot forward. It 
 194
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 seemed as though they were gliding through 
 the darkness without touching the ground. 
 Nothing was visible save the white glare of the 
 search-light. By shutting her eyes, Deborah 
 could imagine they were in an aeroplane shoot- 
 ing speedily through space. It seemed once 
 that they passed a man on a bicycle, but he 
 slipped by so quickly it was impossible to tell. 
 Presently they began to slow down. 
 
 " Don't stop ! " cried Lea. " It's nine o'clock 
 now." 
 
 Robert made no reply. Just then they heard, 
 indeed, the chug of the motorcycle they had 
 passed. The chauffeur threw off his power and 
 presently the man drew up beside them. 
 
 " Stop the car," he called, briskly. 
 
 The light fell on the man. He had red hair 
 and spoke with a slight brogue. He threw open 
 his coat and showed his shining badge. 
 
 " You were exceeding the speed limit," said 
 he ; " drive down the road. There is a justice 
 of the peace here." 
 
 " We can't stop now," exclaimed Lea. " Give 
 195
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 them your name, chauffeur, and appear in the 
 morning." 
 
 " Against the rules of the county. And you 
 are responsible, sir." 
 
 " But this is a hired car." 
 
 " Did you give instructions to go faster? " 
 
 " I did. Yes." 
 
 " You are responsible then. We will keep 
 you no longer than is necessary for our pur- 
 pose." 
 
 Deborah thought those words were aptly 
 chosen. She lay back in the corner, not mov- 
 ing a muscle. She watched the tight lips of 
 John Lea. His eyes shot lightning, but he con- 
 trolled himself splendidly. 
 
 " All right. Go ahead," he said, shortly. 
 
 The man rode on. Robert followed with the 
 car. They drove half a mile and turned in at 
 the gateway of a dark, uncertain place. The 
 drive on which they ran led up to a dark house. 
 The search-light reflected on the windows. 
 Under the porte-cochere the machine stopped. 
 A maid opened the door at the red-haired 
 196
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 man's ring. The maid was Mrs. Devine's 
 maid. Within, the hall was lighted and the 
 maid switched on lights on the porch. 
 
 " Is the squire in ? " 
 
 The woman did not move a muscle. 
 
 " He is in the house yonder. I'll telephone 
 for him." 
 
 " Very good." The red-headed man turned 
 to Lea. " Will you and the lady step into the 
 squire's study for a moment ? " 
 
 Lea looked at the man intently. 
 
 " Now, don't fuss," said Deborah. 
 
 He turned his back on the man and strode 
 up the steps. At the end of the hall was an 
 open door. 
 
 "This way," said the maid, leading them 
 toward it. 
 
 Lea walked past her. In that moment the 
 maid just ahead of Deborah held up a card 
 behind her back. Deborah read on it this 
 sentence : 
 
 " Rescue party will be here soon." 
 
 She smiled contentedly. 
 197
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 She and Lea entered the room. The door 
 closed behind them. There was conversation 
 in the hall, under cloak of which Deborah heard 
 them turn the key of the door. 
 
 John Marshall Lea was her prisoner. 
 
 198
 
 CHAPTER XVII 
 
 WHEN the key had turned with a barely 
 distinguishable click and the noise of 
 conversation in the hall had ceased and at 
 length the muffled thud of the front door told 
 of the supposed departure of one or more of 
 them for the promised justice of the peace, Lea, 
 assuming a sudden air of calmness, gazed about 
 him with a spark of interest in his surround- 
 ings. It was a low-ceilinged, beamed room 
 with a fireplace at one end. Along the walls 
 of the main part of the room were shelves of 
 books. 
 
 Pulling aside the heavy drapery at the win- 
 dows, he looked out through sturdily wrought 
 iron grilles into the snow of the night. The 
 clouded-over moon cast a faint glow of light 
 over the world and in it he could see the thickly 
 falling flakes swirled past the window by the 
 
 rising wind. Already the ground was white. 
 
 199
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 The curtain fell. 
 
 "Snowing ! " he asserted pleasantly. 
 
 " Is it? " she said, smiling, from her rigid seat 
 in a straight-backed chair. 
 
 He glanced at a row of books. 
 
 " Let's see what the justice enjoys in the way 
 of literature. Peter Ibbottson, ' The Mill on the 
 Floss/ ' Sherlock Holmes.' Ah ! True to form. 
 Detective stories! The proper relaxation for 
 the legal mind." 
 
 He stopped by the door through which they 
 had entered the only door to the room and 
 examined its physical appearance carefully. 
 But somewhat to her surprise he did not try 
 the knob. Instead, he walked away and seated 
 himself in a leather-covered chair under the 
 light on the table. He picked up a paper knife 
 made in some fantastic design and examined it 
 idly. His calm disconcerted her. 
 
 " You do not converse readily, do you? " she 
 asserted, solemnly. 
 
 He bowed. 
 
 " You compliment me," he returned. " All 
 
 200
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 my life people have assured me that I had an 
 unfortunate sufficiency of conversation." 
 
 " That's just soliloquizing thinking out loud 
 like Hamlet. I mean conversation." 
 
 " It takes two to accomplish it. And you are 
 very quiet to-night." He looked across the 
 table at her. " What's the matter ? Something 
 on your mind ? " he asked. 
 
 She started. She felt like Lady Macbeth at 
 the knocking on the gate. But she smiled. 
 
 " No," she said, pleasantly. 
 
 The little clock on the mantle struck ten. 
 
 " Old justice," observed Lea, " must be in 
 the midst of an exciting game of checkers with 
 the storekeeper." 
 
 The wind whistled as it rounded the corner. 
 He raised the hangings of the window again 
 and looked out at the roaring storm. The 
 snow had piled up with incredible rapidity and 
 the wind was carrying it with such force that 
 the falling flakes and the drifting snow merged 
 in the swirling clouds that swept by. 
 
 " ' St. Agnes' eve. Ah, bitter chill it was/ " 
 20 1
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 he muttered. " ' The owl for all his feathers 
 was a-cold.' " 
 
 She leaned forward in her chair. 
 
 " Say some more of it," she said. 
 
 He let the curtain fall in surprise and faced 
 about with a smile. Without a word he leaned 
 against the trim of the window and throwing 
 back his head repeated the whole wonderful 
 wintry poem not to her, for his eyes rested on 
 the ceiling ; but just with the simple pleasure 
 of a person humming an old song. She had 
 never known him to be more wonderful. He 
 made the music of it throb with a new, living, 
 personal reality as of a master 'celloist who 
 lets forth the wonders of some glorious inter- 
 mezzo. She forgot the room, the house, the 
 eternal cause and the rescue party that had not 
 come. She thought only of him. It was as if 
 he were admitting her to the inner mansion of 
 his soul. And when he had finished, there was 
 a silence in the room as marvelous and strange 
 as if a celestial procession had passed through 
 it. They did not look at each other. 
 
 202
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 "And that," he said, presently, "was just 
 such a night as this." 
 
 He pushed aside the curtain again. 
 
 " Rough driving out there," he asserted. " It 
 is very wild. I wouldn't trust any chauffeur to 
 keep to the road a night like this." 
 
 She followed him to the window. 
 
 " This ought not to keep " she checked her- 
 self " to keep us from going, ought it ? " 
 
 " Nothing will stop me to-night," he ob- 
 served, enigmatically. 
 
 She looked at him hard. Then she laughed. 
 
 " Old cock-sure I " she said, but there was a 
 touch of tenderness in her voice. 
 
 She sank down into a chair the comfortable 
 one he had been sitting in. He made the cir- 
 cuit of the room again, eyeing the furnishings 
 and fastenings of the room with an air that was 
 pleasantly curious. There were three windows 
 and one door. The ornamental wrought iron 
 grilles that barred the windows were let into 
 the masonry and leaded into place. The door 
 
 was of solid oak. Lea noted all these details 
 
 203
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 with interest and returned to a seat by the 
 lamp. 
 
 Deborah, who had been watching the clock 
 while his back was turned, was too much ex- 
 cited and perturbed now to trust herself to con- 
 versation. She seized a magazine at random 
 and pretended to read. Old campaigner that 
 he was, and but too well schooled in the para- 
 mount value of patience, he glanced over the 
 books on the table and, selecting one, began 
 actually to read. The clock, viewing this do- 
 mestic scene, struck eleven in a peremptory 
 and disapproving manner. 
 
 The next hour was not more than usually 
 long to Lea. He had nothing to worry about 
 he was following that luxurious idea of let- 
 ting events take their course. To Deborah it 
 was months long, expecting as she did the ar- 
 rival momentarily of a rescue party from Wash- 
 ington. She read not a word. Her eye was 
 on the nearly stationary hand of the clock. At 
 the end of the several months menti9ned, the 
 hands at last dragged themselves up to the 
 204
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 zenith like two spent explorers crawling to the 
 pole, and the clock struck twelve. 
 
 " Goodness 1 " exclaimed Lea, closing his 
 book. " Midnight." 
 
 There was a scarcely audible tap at the door. 
 Deborah sat up rigidly. She knew the rescue 
 party had not come, for they would have made 
 a tumult of noise. The rap sounded again. 
 
 " Miss Carver," said a voice, " how long is 
 you going to sit up ? " 
 
 There was silence in the room, complete and 
 absolute. She rose, however, with easy dignity. 
 
 " What did you want, Martha ? " she asked. 
 
 " Did you want me to stay up any longer ? " 
 
 All pretense of concealment was useless now. 
 
 " Is there any sign of the other people ? " 
 
 " No, Miss Carver." 
 
 Deborah ruminated. 
 
 " Wait half an hour more," she said, at 
 length. 
 
 205
 
 CHAPTER XVIII 
 
 THEY heard the footsteps of the maid re- 
 treating down the hall. Lea looked at 
 her with keen eyes. 
 
 " Now what ? " he asked. 
 
 " I suppose," she returned, " I had better tell 
 you the whole story." 
 
 " Why, yes. It has been gradually dawning 
 on me," he said, " during the past three hours. 
 I suppose I have been kidnapped ? " 
 
 " That's it," she replied, not looking at him. 
 
 " How long is this incarceration to last? " 
 
 " We don't want you to be at the House to- 
 morrow, when the vote is taken. You are such 
 an important factor," she said, smiling, " that we 
 felt it best to have you out of the way." 
 
 " I feel the compliment deeply," he replied. 
 
 " A party of seven or eight are on their way 
 now to get me and to care for you the rest of 
 the night and to-morrow." 
 
 She strove to say this casually, as though 
 
 206
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 there were no doubt in the world as to the ar- 
 rival of the party. 
 
 " Ah, yes," -he said, " and if the party does 
 not come ? " 
 
 " I shall make other arrangements." 
 
 He nodded. 
 
 " What made you suspect," she went on, 
 changing the subject quickly, " that you were 
 being that I was running off with you ? " 
 
 He laughed. 
 
 " First of all," he said, " I took the precaution 
 to look at the book-plate in several of those 
 novels, and when I found they all bore a rather 
 prominent woman's suffrage name, I began to 
 see it was not for speeding I had been clapped 
 into this strong-box." 
 
 " You have been very mild about it," she 
 said, wonderingly. " I hoped you would rave 
 about and tear your hair." 
 
 "Not yet," he returned, smiling. "You see, 
 the game has just begun." 
 
 She met his eyes then. He returned her gaze 
 
 with a pleasant steadiness. That exchange of 
 
 207
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 glances each felt was like the preliminary touch 
 of swords. She waited, studying him carefully. 
 The clock ticked on methodically, the only 
 audible thing in the room. She decided on her 
 course. She rose and held out her hand with 
 every appearance of graciousness. 
 
 " Good-night," she said, with a radiant smile. 
 
 He rose too, looking at her in surprise. 
 
 " Going ? " he asked, mildly, 
 
 " Yes." 
 
 " How shall you get out ? " 
 
 " I will ring for the maid to unlock the door." 
 
 "Splendid idea," he agreed, unexpectedly. 
 " I will go with you." 
 
 She paused. 
 
 " You are not to go," she said, slowly. 
 
 He laughed easily. 
 
 " I shall have to be restrained by force then. 
 I fear that the seven or eight in your party of 
 reinforcements could have overwhelmed me. 
 But under the present circumstances, I shall be 
 compelled to take advantage of the non-arrival 
 of Blucher, so to speak." 
 208
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 She bit her lip. 
 
 " But I can't stay here. It is an impossible 
 situation. Surely you wouldn't think of " 
 
 " Not at all. I think your suggestion of hav- 
 ing the maid unlock the door is best. It will 
 relieve the impossibility of the situation." 
 
 She clasped her hands behind her and squared 
 her shoulders. 
 
 " I do not propose to let you go," she cried. 
 
 He opened and shut the pocket-knife that lay 
 in his hand. 
 
 " Ah, there spoke Boadicea ! " he said. 
 
 " What good will it do you to leave the room ? 
 You don't know where you are." 
 
 " But I do. This is Mrs. Devine's house. I 
 know the country about here quite well. An 
 old college friend of mine, a certain Reverend 
 Richard Dinsmore, lives not more than half a 
 mile away. I should rouse him up in the dead 
 of the night, and in the morning he would see 
 that I reached Washington. You see I am not 
 without resources." 
 
 The blood slowly mounted to her cheeks. 
 209
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 " But you cannot keep me here in the room 
 with you." 
 
 " I leave that to you." 
 
 " In twenty-four hours gossip will have car- 
 ried it everywhere. Surely you cannot let that 
 happen to any woman." 
 
 He stood with his back to the fireplace. 
 
 " I suggest," he said, evenly, " that you call 
 the maid." 
 
 Anger rose in her breast. Her eyes flashed. 
 
 " Once," she cried, indignantly, " you told me 
 you loved me. If that were true, you would 
 not be willing to submit me to this indignity." 
 
 He strode across the room and grasped both 
 her wrists. Instead of breaking away from him 
 she looked up at him, round-eyed with wonder. 
 He gazed down at her, his lips firmly drawn. 
 
 44 You have pitted your reputation," he said, 
 quietly, " against my reputation your honor as 
 a woman, which I respect as heaven itself be- 
 cause I do love you, against what I feel is my 
 honor and duty as a member of the Congress of 
 these United States. That is something you, if 
 210
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 you cared for me one slight atom, would not ask 
 me to recede from." 
 
 She slowly raised her eyes to his. 
 
 " Would you have me recede ? " he asked. 
 
 " No," she whispered. 
 
 Suddenly his arms went about her and held 
 her motionless. She did not resist, but lay for 
 a moment in his embrace. Then she raised 
 her head and pushed him away from her. 
 
 " You are still, however," she announced, 
 " my prisoner." 
 
 " I always have been," he replied, quietly. 
 
 " And I have no intention of letting you go." 
 
 " Please heaven, no." 
 
 She smiled. 
 
 " You are speaking in allegories," she said. 
 " I am severely literal. My duty to hold you 
 here is as imperative as your duty to go." She 
 made a step forward and held his wrists between 
 her thumbs and forefingers. "Would you 
 have me recede ? " she asked, severely. 
 
 He caught her tightly to him. 
 
 " A hundred times no I " he exclaimed. 
 
 211
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 " What are we to do then ? " she asked, 
 quietly. 
 
 He knitted his brows. 
 
 " You will not let me go ? " 
 
 " No," she whispered. 
 
 "And I will not let you go." 
 
 " According to the rules, then," he went on, 
 " we should both go on a hunger and thirst 
 strike." 
 
 She broke away from him. 
 
 " You are not serious," she cried. 
 
 He followed her and stood above her chair. 
 
 " I am very serious now," he said, gravely. 
 " I have a tremendous suggestion to make." 
 
 She leaned forward eagerly. 
 
 " What is it ? " she asked. 
 
 He seized both her hands and held them in 
 his. 
 
 " You must marry me, Deborah. Now." 
 
 She caught her breath. The blood ran hot 
 and cold in her. She forced a laugh. 
 
 " You don't know what you are saying," she 
 said, faintly. 
 
 212
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 He leaned over and took her face in his 
 hands. 
 
 " You cannot stay with me otherwise," he 
 told her, " and I will not let you leave." 
 
 " But," she whispered, turning her flushed 
 face up to him, " I have promised. I cannot 
 do it." 
 
 He strode up and down the room. 
 
 "My dearest Deborah" it was the second 
 time he had used her name " something has 
 to break. You won't let me go out of this 
 room. I won't let you go. You can't stay 
 unless you marry me. And you say you can't 
 marry me." 
 
 She buried her face in her hands. 
 
 " What can I do ? " she exclaimed. 
 
 " You have two evils to choose from. You 
 have either to let me go or marry me. Choose 
 the least." 
 
 It was a long five minutes that passed. She 
 leaned forward with her elbows on the arms of 
 the chair and her fingers interlaced. There 
 
 was no necessity of choosing. She had chosen 
 
 213
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 long ago. She wanted him. As far as her 
 heart was concerned she would have let him 
 carry her off then wherever he wished and marry 
 her. But there were other considerations. She 
 raised her shoulders presently with the air of 
 dismissing the whole subject. He noted the 
 gesture. 
 
 She glanced at him and caught the serious- 
 ness in his eyes. She reached up and took the 
 lapels of his coat in her hands. 
 
 "Well, Sir Fixit," she said, gently, "how 
 could two people be married in the midst of 
 such a night ? " 
 
 " Why did Providence," he cried, " provide 
 me with my dear friend, Rev. Richard Dinsmore, 
 but for this identical purpose ? You know," he 
 went on, presently, "this place to which you 
 have carried me is in the very heart of the Gretna 
 Green district, so to speak." 
 
 " You wretch ! " she exclaimed. 
 
 " Of course, I understand that nothing was 
 further from your thoughts than " 
 
 She bent a look of great severity upon him. 
 214
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 ' " Now I shall never marry you," she an- 
 nounced. 
 
 She stood for a long while by the fireplace 
 with her foot on the fender. 
 
 " We have been talking foolishness," she said, 
 quietly. " You know why I could not marry 
 you under any circumstances." 
 
 He strode over to her and played his last 
 and biggest card. 
 
 " You promised not to marry, for the purpose 
 of helping woman's suffrage. You are holding 
 me here, for the purpose of helping woman's 
 suffrage. Which is the more important ? " 
 
 " How can I decide ? " 
 
 " There is a telephone in this house. Call up 
 your headquarters, or your general-in-chief, and 
 find out." 
 
 She started. A light of relief broke upon her 
 face. It seemed to be the way out. 
 
 A knock sounded upon the door. 
 
 " Half hour is up, Miss Carver," said the 
 maid. 
 
 "Just a moment, Martha." Deborah rose 
 215
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 and turned to Lea. "You are coming with 
 me?" 
 
 He nodded. 
 
 " Do you promise to come back with me, if 
 necessary ? " 
 
 " I do," he replied. 
 
 She swept across the room. 
 
 "Unlock the door, Martha," she said. 
 
 216
 
 CHAPTER XIX 
 
 NO one could have known, from watching 
 Lea's calm face, the tremendous impor- 
 tance to him of the outcome of that interview. 
 He sat upon the sofa in the hall idly fingering 
 his watch-fob and following with his eye the 
 moulded plaster pattern on the ceiling. But 
 each time Deborah cried once more, " Hello," 
 patiently waiting to get Mrs. Dobson, he glanced 
 across at her expectantly. Finally Deborah 
 said : 
 
 " Is this Mrs. Dobson ? " 
 
 Pause. He watched her face keenly. 
 
 " This," said Deborah, " is Deborah Carver. 
 .... Quite safe .... Yes .... He is here. 
 That's you," she observed, putting her handover 
 the transmitter. There was a long pause. 
 " You say they did lose their way .... Can't 
 
 get any one to come out until the morning. 
 
 217
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 .... But, Mrs. Dobson, you can see the posi- 
 tion it puts me in." 
 
 There was another long pause. At length 
 Deborah said : 
 
 "Mrs. Dobson, I can't stay here. I must 
 
 either let him go or " She hesitated. There 
 
 was the buzz in the receiver of some one talk- 
 ing. She listened. " I know. It would spoil 
 the whole undertaking .... I understand its 
 importance but .... Yes, I have another 
 scheme .... I could do it .... Alone 
 
 .... Yes .... Then listen How shall 
 
 I say this?" she broke off, turning her flushed 
 face to him. 
 
 " Just tell her." 
 
 "Hello, Mrs. Dobson. The scheme is to 
 
 marry him. Marry M-a-r-r-y " Deborah 
 
 turned to Lea. " She says it doesn't sound like 
 anything but ' marry ' to her." She spoke again 
 in the receiver. "That's what I mean .... 
 Exactly." 
 
 Lea stood up like a man about to receive the 
 verdict of a jury. Deborah spoke again. 
 218
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 "Yes .... It w a sacrifice. But I cannot 
 stay with him otherwise .... I put the ques- 
 tion up to you shall I let him go to appear 
 in the House to-morrow or shall I break my 
 promise as to marrying ? " 
 
 Lea waited. He stood behind her, his hands 
 tightly clenched. 
 
 " Is this what you said," asked Deborah, in a 
 second, " Keep him here at any cost ? " Pause. 
 "I understand. I will keep him here at any 
 cost." 
 
 He leaned over and kissed her hair. And 
 when she stood up, her knees shook. 
 
 "Hold me tight. Tight," she cried. "I'm 
 frightened." 
 
 He held her. The maid sitting in the corner 
 by the stairs made no difference. 
 
 " If you do not want me " he began. 
 
 She put her hand over his mouth. 
 
 " You are the only thing I want. Hurry," 
 she exclaimed. 
 
 He turned to the maid. 
 
 " Miss Carver and I," he said, with a calm- 
 219
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 ness he did not feel, " are to be married here in 
 half an hour or so." 
 
 The maid leaped to her feet. Lea seized the 
 telephone. 
 
 " Dick Dinsmore," he said, into that instru- 
 ment, after a month of delay. " This is John 
 Lea. Please come over here and marry me. 
 Right away .... Bring a license clerk .... 
 Think of Peary in the arctic zone, man, and this 
 wind will be but the breath of spring .... 
 Ride a horse, walk, fly on your angel wings 
 .... Did you ever hear the story of the good 
 Samaritan .... Here is your chance .... 
 I am waiting for you by the wayside .... 
 Many thanks. If you knew how glorious a mo- 
 ment this was for me you would not blame me 
 for making this test of your friendship." 
 
 It was a strange wedding ceremony that mar- 
 ried Deborah Carver not like the orange-blos- 
 som event she had dreamed about a thousand 
 times no thought-over dress to preserve with 
 tender memories, nothing old carefully selected, 
 nothing new, nothing borrowed, nothing blue ; 
 
 220
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 no friend of her childhood to pin back her veil, 
 no organ, no guests, no friend at all save the 
 man she was to marry. But he was church and 
 choir for her, and in his heart she knew was 
 music more sonorous than wedding marches. 
 That simple ceremony with the deep-voiced 
 friend of John Lea's college days reading the 
 service, his eye not on the open book, with only 
 the maid and the license clerk as guests and 
 witnesses, with the man who was to be her hus- 
 band saying his responses in a firm, strong, 
 happy voice, she could not look upon with any- 
 thing save pleasure, and wonder and an all- 
 compelling gratitude. 
 
 In a short time it was all over and on her 
 finger was John Lea's seal ring a strange wed- 
 ding sign, but becoming on her long, slender 
 finger. They found that Martha had set a wed- 
 ding breakfast in the dining-room with candles 
 on the table and all Mrs. Devine's best linen 
 and silver. It was not an elaborate menu such 
 as might have been published with effect in the 
 
 papers, but one of quite substantial foods which 
 
 221
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 were more than welcome to Deborah and Lea, 
 who, at half-past one in the morning, were fam- 
 ished from their long fast. 
 
 The license clerk, a certain Mr. Dobbs, sat 
 very stiffly at the board and shot back his cuffs 
 at intervals, blinking at the light like an owl, 
 and never opening his mouth save for the pur- 
 pose of eating or to yawn covertly behind his 
 hand. A cross section through his brain would 
 probably have disclosed the word "sleep," 
 blazoned in large letters upon it. He was not 
 what might be called an ideal wedding guest, 
 but at least he had the virtue of being sincere. 
 
 At length Mr. Dinsmore, feeling that the oc- 
 casion was drawing to a close, or else having 
 compassion on Mr. Dobbs, rose from the table. 
 
 " I am sorry," he said to Deborah, " that you 
 have no bouquet to throw. Mr. Dobbs would 
 enjoy catching it. For though he dispenses 
 marriage licenses daily by the thousand, he is 
 thoroughly single; starving as it were in the 
 midst of plenty." 
 
 Mr. Dobbs blushed fiery red, as if he had 
 222
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 swallowed something down the wrong throat, 
 and had to shoot back his cuffs two or three 
 times to regain his composure. 
 
 Deborah smiled at him with something ap- 
 proaching affection ; for was he not the only 
 guest at her wedding ? Mr. Dobbs assumed an 
 attitude of a little more ease and murmured 
 something about the pleasantness of the occa- 
 sion. 
 
 "Good-night, Mrs. Lea," cried Dinsmore, 
 noting the embarrassment the unexpected title 
 caused her. " I have known John many years," 
 he said, seriously, " and I know of no gentler, 
 sturdier, more comforting soul than is he. I 
 trust you will both be happy." 
 
 And then to her surprise and confusion, he 
 kissed her. Mr. Dobbs did not kiss her, but 
 shook hands with her with one straight motion 
 like a man shifting the gear lever of an automo- 
 bile, and then walked after Mr. Dinsmore, his 
 shoes squeaking impressively. Deborah and 
 Lea, through the window, watched them mount 
 
 their horses and ride off in the snow. 
 
 223
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 The maid was standing in the hallway. 
 
 " Did the chauffeur that brought us and the 
 red-headed man try to go back?" Lea asked 
 her as he turned the key in the big lock of the 
 front door. 
 
 Martha said they did. 
 
 " I hope they didn't run into trouble." 
 
 The maid disappeared, leaving them alone. 
 Deborah, across the hall, stood looking at 
 him. 
 
 "Tired?" he asked. 
 
 She nodded. 
 
 He strode to her and she dropped contentedly 
 into his arms. 
 
 " Fighting for the suffrage," he said, gently, 
 " is fatiguing." 
 
 "The suffrage." She smiled. "Think of 
 fighting for that when there was this," putting 
 her hand over his heart, " to fight for." 
 
 He held her tightly to him. She buried the 
 point of her chin in his shoulder. 
 
 "I shall be happy," she said, seriously, "if 
 
 the women win their fight for the suffrage to- 
 224
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 morrow, because they have worked for it. But 
 I shall never be reconciled to having kept my 
 my husband," she cried, gripping him tightly, 
 " out of the fight when he wanted to be in the 
 thick of it." 
 
 He did not look at her. 
 
 " You are a glorious person," he said, huskily. 
 " But you need not worry on that score." 
 
 She caught his chin and turned his face 
 toward her. 
 
 " Why ? " she asked, imperiously. 
 
 " Because," he said, gravely, " when the 
 House convenes to-morrow they will immedi- 
 ately take a recess for the day out of respect to 
 the memory of Senator Hemmingway, who was 
 once Speaker of the House. This is not gener- 
 ally known. It was decided just before I left 
 the Capitol." 
 
 She lay perfectly motionless in his arms. 
 Her surprised eyes gazed at him as if her whole 
 intelligence refused absolutely to comprehend 
 the meaning of his words. Then gradually her 
 
 mouth broke into a smile and she laughed 
 
 225
 
 MERE MAN 
 
 aloud. She raised her head and kissed him 
 upon the lips. 
 
 " The reason I love you," she said, " is be- 
 cause I can't beat you." 
 
 226
 
 i ! ; 
 
 liii