Now the first thing to do, obviously, was to get off papa’s back at once.  Her fifty thousand dollars would be a sound starter there; of course papa would take it, since she wanted him to so much.  And her mind, as she drove, kept recurring to this symbol, kept bringing up pictures of the new Works that would be, built perfect with her money.  She saw it considerably like the beautiful marble palace of her childhood’s thought, the pride of Canal Street without, and within wonderfully clean, spacious and airy, and most marvellously fragrant.  In this new palace of labor, faints and swoons were things undreamed of.  Trim, smiling, pretty girls, all looking rather like French maids in a play, happily plied their light agreeable tasks; and, in especial, the cheeks of poor Miller (who had stoutened gratifyingly) were observed to blossom like the rose.

Yet the creator of all these wonders was well aware that she was not giving her dowry to Miller, exactly....

Descending from the car at her own door, Cally encountered Mr. Pond, of the Settlement.  The dark-faced Director was loafing, oddly enough, on Mrs. Mason’s steps, which had once been Mr. Beirne’s, four doors from home.  He raised his hat about two inches at the sight of her, returned his watch and some typewritten papers to his pocket, and came forward.

“Don’t run,” said he, unsmiling.  “I want to know plainly whether or not you are coming to my meeting to-morrow.  Yes or no.”

Cally laughed gaily.  There was a radiance within her, and she liked this man increasingly.  Several times they had met, since their antagonistic talk at the Settlement; and in the blunt Director’s manner she had lately observed that creeping change which she had witnessed in men as stalwart, before now....

“Don’t look so fierce,” said she, “for I’ll not be bullied.  Or at least not till you explain why you’re hanging around in front of the neighbors’ at twelve o’clock in the morning—­you who always pretend to be so frightfully busy.”

“Waiting for Vivian.  And I am busy, confound him....  Not too busy, as you see, to take a kind interest in your welfare—­”

“Oh!...  Is Dr. Vivian there—­at the Masons’?  Why, what are you waiting for him for?”

“Seems to me you ask a good many questions for an idler.”

He stood on the sidewalk, looking up at her with his hawk-eyes, a man yet in the early thirties, but of obvious power.

“We’re going to buy second-hand benches, if you must know,” continued he.  “He says he can show me where to get ’em cheap.  Anything else?”

“No-o—­except ...  How much will the benches cost?  Perhaps I—­might be able to contribute something—­”

“I don’t want your old money,” said Pond.  “When are you going to be serious about serious things?”

“I think now,” said Cally ...  “Only, you see, I don’t know anything at all.”

“I’ll teach you,” said the Director.