When John Marvel brought his friend to see Miss Eleanor Leigh, the first impression that she received was one of pleasure. He was so striking and unusual looking--with deep, burning eyes under dark brows. Then she was not sure that she liked him, she even thought she was sensible of a sort of repulsion. She had a feeling as if he were weighing her in his mind and, not approving of her, treated her at times with indifference, at times with a certain disdain. She was conscious of an antagonism as Wolffert showed scorn of conditions and things which she had been brought up to believe almost as much a necessary part of life as air and light. She promptly began to argue with him, but when she found that he usually had the best of the argument, she became more careful how she opened herself to his attack. He aroused in her the feeling of opposition. His scorn of the money-making spirit of the day led her to defend what she secretly held in contempt. And once when he had been inveighing against commercialism that set up Gods of Brass to worship, and declared that it was the old story of Nebuchadnezzar over again--and was the fore-runner to brotherhood with the beasts of the field, she wheeled on him, declaring that it was "only people who had no power to make money who held such views." "Do you think that I could not make money if I wished to do so?" said Wolffert quietly, with an amused light in his eyes as they rested on her with an expression which was certainly not hostile; for her eagerness had brought warm blood to her cheeks and her eyes were sparkling with the glow of contention. "Yes, if you were able you would be as rich as a Jew." A yet more amused look came into Wolffert's eyes. "Are all Jews rich?" he asked. "Yes--all who are capable--you know they are." "No, for I am a Jew and I am not rich," said Wolffert. "What! You!--You a--Oh, I beg your pardon! I--" she blushed deeply. "Pray don't apologize--don't imagine that I am offended. Would you be offended if I charged you with coming from a race of poets and philosophers and scientists--of a race that had given the world its literature and its religion?" She burst out laughing. "No; but I was such a fool--pray forgive me." She held out her hand and Wolffert took it and pressed it firmly--and this was the beginning of their friendship. Wolffert walked home slowly that evening, that is, across the fields to the little farmhouse where John Marvel lived. He had food for thought. When Eleanor Leigh saw John Marvel a few days later she told him of her conversation and the speech she had made to his friend. "You know," said John, "that he is rich or could be, if he chose to go home. His father is very rich." "He is a new Jew to me," said Eleanor Leigh; "he is quite different from the typical Jew." "I wonder if there is a typical Jew," questioned John to himself, and this set Eleanor wondering too.