There are institutions that look after
people's minds and bodies gratis; I want to see an institution started up
that will do as much for their estates. I want to see a building for it,
with an endowment and a library and a force of practitioners. To think of
all the things that a man with money and ideas and sympathies might
do--and should do--in a town like this!"
"You might try him," said Truesdale, doubtfully; "but I think Jane has
got the inside track. You've heard about her Home, I suppose, and seen
the plans for it. I should _want_ to put up an architectural monument in
such a ghastly town as this; I should as soon think of ramming an angel
into a coal-hole."
Yes, Brower knew all about Jane's Home--much more than Truesdale did, in
fact; but this did not prevent him from asking for all manner of
information about the project. He did this purely for the pleasure of
talking about Jane herself; and he wondered time and time again whether
he had not betrayed to Jane's brother the particular kind of interest he
was developing in her. He felt that his beard offered but a slight
concealment to the nervous twitching of his mouth, and that, despite the
muffling of his heavy overcoat, the throbbings of his heart must be as
perceptible to Truesdale as to himself. And when Truesdale presently made
the ungrudging avowal that Jane was a pretty good sort of girl, after
all--the _ne plus ultra_ of a brother's praise--Brower was driven to
thrust a trembling hand inside his coat to reduce his thumping organ to
something like subjection.
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