The days and weeks that followed were to Dennis such as only come once in a lifetime, and not in every lifetime either. A true, pure love was growing up within his heart—growing as the little child develops in strength and pleasurable life, and yet unconsciously to itself. It seemed as if some strong magician's wand had touched the world or him. Everything was transfigured, and no wonderland was more full of interest than that in which he existed. His life was a waking dream, in which nothing was distinct or definite, but all things abounded in hope and happy suggestion. He compared it afterward to a tropical island of the Pacific, a blissful fragment of life by itself, utterly distinct from the hard, struggling years that preceded, and the painful awakening that followed.

Even the place of his daily toil was pervaded by a beautiful presence. For many days he and Christine worked together, and at last her eyes had rested on, or her fingers had touched, nearly everything in the store, and therefore all was associated with her. Throughout their labors his quick sympathy and appreciation made him almost hands and feet to her, and she regarded him as a miracle of helpfulness—one of those humble, useful creatures who are born to wait upon and interpret the wishes of the rich and great. His admiring glances disturbed her not and raised no suspicion in her mind. She had been accustomed to such for years, and took them as a matter of course.

She treated the young men whom she met in society with a courtly ease and freedom, but her smiles and repartee ever seemed like brilliant moonlight that had no warmth; and, while no restraint appeared, she still kept all at a distance. There was a marked difference in her intercourse with Dennis. Regarding him as too humble ever to presume upon her frankness, she daily spoke more freely, and more truly acted out herself before him. She was happy and in her element among the beautiful works of art they were arranging, and in this atmosphere her womanly nature, chilled and dwarfed though it was, would often manifest itself in ways sweet and unexpected. Under no other circumstances could she have appeared so well. She as often spoke to herself in racy comment on what was before her as to Dennis, and ever and anon would make some pleasant remark to him, as she might throw a dainty morsel to her greyhound Wolf, looking wistfully at her while she dined. At the same time it must be confessed that she had a growing respect for him, as she daily saw some new proof of his intelligence and taste; but both education and disposition inclined her instinctively to the old feudal idea that even genius, if poor, must wait a humble servitor on wealth and rank, and where a New England girl would have been saying to herself, "This gifted, educated man is my equal, and, whether I want to or not, I ought to treat him as such," she was not troubled at all. To her, he was her father's clerk and man-of-all-work, a most useful, trusted, and agreeable servant, and she was kind to him as such. Indeed the little autocrat was kind to every one that pleased her. She was a benign queen to obedient subjects, but woe to those who were otherwise.

To Dennis, however, though he realized it not, she was becoming as the very apple of his eye. He was learning to regard her with a deeper interest because of the very defects that he plainly recognized. While on the one hand he had the enthusiastic love caused by his admiration for her, on the other he felt the tenderer and greater love which was the result of pity. He tried to account for his feelings toward her by the usual sophistries of unconscious lovers. It was friendship; it was artistic interest in her beauty; it was the absorbing, unselfish regard of a Christian for one providentially commended to him to be led out of darkness into light. How could he help thinking of one for whom he prayed night and morning and every hour in the day? It was all this, but he was soon to learn that it was a great deal more. And so the days of occupation and companionship passed; the spell worked on with increasing and bewildering power, and the crisis could not be delayed much longer.

One morning in the latter part of April she seemed more gracious than usual. Their labors were drawing to a close, and, as he had proved so tasteful and efficient in the store, she concluded that he might be equally useful in other ways and places. She could command him at the store, but not in respect to a task that she had in view; so she adopted a little feminine artifice as old as the time when Eve handed Adam the apple, and she looked at him in such a way that he could not refuse.

Blind, honest Dennis, it is needless to say, saw nothing of this little strategy of which he was destined to be the happy, willing victim, and his love expanded and bloomed under the genial light of her presence and kindness, like the flowers of the convolvulus in a bright dawn of June. She brought her general graciousness to a definite and blissful climax by saying, when about to go home, "Well, Mr. Fleet, you have done better than usual to-day, and I certainly must give you credit for possessing more taste than any young man of my acquaintance."

Dennis's heart gave as great a bound as if the laurel crown of all the
Olympic games had been placed upon his brow.

"I am now going to ask a favor," she continued.

"You may command me, Miss Ludolph," interrupted Dennis.

"No, not in this case," she replied. "Whatever you do will be regarded as a personal favor to me. At the same time it will afford you scope for such display of your taste as will secure many compliments."

"If I am able to satisfy you I shall be more than compensated," said
Dennis with a bow.

She smiled and thought to herself, "That isn't bad for a porter and man-of-all-work," and explained as follows:

"Some young ladies and gentlemen have decided upon giving an entertainment, consisting of music, tableaux, and statuary. Now, in regard to the two latter parts, we need above all things some person of taste like yourself, whose critical eye and dexterous hand will insure everything to be just right. You will be a sort of general stage manager and superintendent, you know. I feel sure you will be all the more willing to enter upon this work when you know that the proceeds are to go toward the Church of the Holy Virgin. This is going to be a very select affair, and the tickets are five dollars each."

"Is it a Protestant church?" asked Dennis, in some trepidation.

"Oh, certainly," she answered, with a peculiar smile, "an Episcopal church."

"It seems a strange name for a Protestant church," said Dennis. "It is enough for me that you wish it; at the same time it certainly is a pleasure to contribute what little I can to aid any Christian organization."

"Come, Mr. Fleet, you are narrow," she said, with a controversial twinkle in her eye. "Why not toward a Catholic church?"

"I fear that all people with decided religious opinions are sometimes regarded as narrow," he answered, with a smile.

"That is an inadequate answer to my question," she said; "but I will not find fault since you have so good-naturedly acceded to my request. Come to No. — Wabash Avenue at three this afternoon. Papa gives you leave of absence."

She vanished, and figuratively the sun went down to Dennis, and he was in twilight till he should see her again. He looked forward to the afternoon with almost feverish eagerness, for several reasons. It would be his first introduction to "good society," for as such the unsophisticated youth regarded the prospect. He had the natural longing of a young, healthful nature for the companionship of those of his own age and culture, and his life in the great city had often been very lonely. He expected, as a matter of course, to be treated as an equal at the artistic entertainment in which he was to participate. In his business relations at the store he had taken a subordinate position and made up his mind to the logical consequences. But now that he was invited to a private house, and would appear there possessing all the qualities of a gentleman, he surely would be treated as one. "Is not this Chicago, whose citizens were nearly all poor a few years ago?" he thought; "and surely, if what Miss Ludolph says is true, I have advantages in my taste over most poor young men." Moreover, it was his ideal of an entertainment, where art and music should take the place of the coarser pleasures of eating, drinking, and dancing. Chief of all, Christine would be there, and even he in his blindness became a little uneasy and self-conscious as he realized how this thought towered above the others.

She had given him a list of the things he was to bring with him in the afternoon, and he occupied every spare moment in getting them ready. At a quarter past two he summoned the carman of the store, and they loaded up the miscellaneous cargo needed for the coming mysteries, and by three all were before the large elegant mansion to which he had been directed. Dennis rang the bell and was shown by a servant into the front parlor, where he found Miss Ludolph, Miss Brown, a tall, haughty brunette, and the young lady of the house, Miss Winthrop, a bright, sunny-faced blonde, and two or three other young ladies of no special coloring or character, being indebted mainly to their toilets for their attractions. Dennis bowed to Miss Ludolph, and then turned toward the other ladies, expecting as a matter of course to be introduced. No introduction came, but his expectant manner was so obvious that Miss Ludolph colored and looked annoyed, and the other young ladies tittered outright.

Advancing a step or two she said, coldly, "Mr. Fleet, you may help Mapes carry the things into the back parlor, and then we will direct you as to the arrangement."

Dennis crimsoned painfully. At first he was too confused to think, and merely obeyed mechanically. Then came the impulse to say boldly that this kind of thing might answer at the store, but not here, and he nearly carried it out; but soon followed the sober second thought, that such action would bring a blight over all his prospects, and involve the loss of his position at the store. Such giving way to passion would injure only himself. They would laugh, and merely suffer a momentary annoyance; to him and his the result would be most disastrous. Why should he let those who cared not a jot for him cause such sad injury?

By the time he had carried his first armful into the back parlor, he had resolved for his mother and sisters' sakes that he would go through the following scenes as well as he could, and then turn his back on society till he could enter it a recognized gentleman; and with compressed lips and flashing eye he mentally vowed that that day should soon come.

As he was unpacking his materials he could not help hearing the conversation in the front parlor.

"Did you ever see such presumption?" exclaimed Miss Brown. "He evidently expected to be introduced, and that we should rise and courtesy all around."

"He must have seen better days, for he certainly appeared like a gentleman," said Miss Winthrop.

"I should hardly give that title to a man who swept a store out every morning" replied Miss Brown.

"No, indeed!" chorused the three colorless young ladies.

"I know nothing about this young man," said Miss Winthrop, ruffling her plumage somewhat for an argument, of which she was fond; "but, as a case in hand, suppose a highly educated and refined man for some reason swept a store out every morning, what would you call him?" and she looked around as if she had given a poser.

The colorless young ladies looked blank—their natural expression.

"Nonsense!" said the positive Miss Brown; "such men don't sweep stores. He may have passed current in some country village, but that is not our set."

"But the case is certainly supposable," retorted Miss Winthrop, more intent upon her argument than upon Dennis. "Come, what does the Countess say?" she asked, turning to Christine; for that was the familiar name by which she went among her young companions.

"The case is not supposable, but actual," she answered, so distinctly that it seemed that she meant Dennis to hear. "As far as I have any means of judging, he is a refined, educated man, and I have learned from papa that his motive in sweeping the store is the support of his mother and sisters—certainly a very worthy one. To your question, Susie, I answer unhesitatingly that in accordance with your American principles and professions he is a gentleman, and you ought to treat him as such. But you Americans are sometimes wonderfully inconsistent, and there is often a marvellously wide margin between your boasted equality and the reality. Now in Europe these questions have been settled for ages, and birth and rank define a person's position accurately."

"I do not believe in equality," said Miss Brown, with a toss of her head. (Her father was a mighty brewer, but he and hers were in character and antecedents something like the froth on their own beer.)

Miss Winthrop was a little embarrassed at finding her supposed case a real one, for it might involve some practical action on her part. Many an ardent advocate of the people in theory gives them practically the cold shoulder, and is content to stay on the summit of Mt. Olympus. She was a girl of good impulses and strong convictions of abstract right, but rarely had either the courage or the opportunity to carry them out. She was of the old Boston family of Winthrops, and therefore could meet Miss Ludolph on her own ground in the way of pedigree.

But, however Dennis fared, she felt that she must look after her argument, and, having conquered theoretically as far as America was concerned, determined to carry war into Europe, so she said: "Are you not mistaken in saying that birth and rank only settle position abroad? Some of the most honored names there are or were untitled."

"Oh, certainly, but they were persons of great genius, and genius is the highest patent of nobility. But I leave you republicans to settle this question to suit yourselves. I am going to look after the preparations for this evening, as I have set my heart on a success that shall ring through the city."

But they all flocked after her into the back parlor, now doubly interesting as it contained an object of curiosity in Dennis Fleet—a veritable gentleman who swept a store.