"Mercenary!" cried Mrs. Trapes, "I should say not! I tell ye, she could be a-rollin' around in a six-thousand-dollar automobile at this very hour if she was that kind. With her face an' figure! She could so!" "What do you mean?" "I mean as there's men--rich men, an' married too--as is mad after her--" "Ah!" said Ravenslee, frowning again. "You may well say 'ah!'" nodded Mrs. Trapes. "Men is all beasts more or less! Why, I could tell you things--well, there! Hermy ain't no innocent babe but there's some things better than innocence an' that's a chin--will-power, Mr. Geoffrey. If a woman's sweet an' strong an' healthy like Hermy, an' got a chin--nothin' can harm her. But beauty like hers is a curse to any good woman if she's poor, beauty being a quick-seller, y' see!" "Yes, I see--I know!" said Ravenslee, clenching his hands and frowning blacker than ever. "But," continued Mrs. Trapes, and here she leaned forward to touch him with an impressive, toil-worn hand, "Hermy Chesterton's jest a angel o' light an' purity; she always has been an' always will be, but she knows about as much as a good girl can know. She's seen the worst o' poverty, an' she's made up her mind, when she marries, to marry a man as is a man an' can give her all the money she wants. So y' see it ain't no good you wastin' your time danglin' around after her an' sighin'--now is it?" "Why, no, Mrs. Trapes, I think I'll speak to her to-night--" "My land! ain't I jest been tryin' to show you as you ain't a fit or worthy party to speak, an' as you won't have a chance if you do speak, her 'eart bein' set on wealth? But you can't speak--you won't speak--I know you won't!" "Why not?" "First, because t' night she's away at Englewood makin' a dress for Mrs. Crawley as is very fond of her. An' second, because you ain't the man to ask a girl to marry him when he ain't got nothin' t' keep her on--you know you ain't!" "Which brings us back to the undoubted fact that I must get a job--at once." "Hm!" said, Mrs. Trapes, viewing his clean-cut features and powerful figure with approval, "what could y' do?" "Anything, so long as I can make good, Mrs. Trapes. What should you suggest?" "Well," said Mrs. Trapes, caressing an elbow thoughtfully, "grocers' assistants makes good money--an' I know Mr. Smith wants a butterman." "Good," nodded Ravenslee, "I should like to batter butter about--" "Are ye used to butter?" "Oh, I've a decided taste for it!" "Know much about it?" "Certainly--it is a yellowish, fatty substance concocted by human agency supposedly from the lacteous secretion of the graminivorous quadruped familiarly known as the common (or garden) cow." "Land sakes!" said Mrs. Trapes, drawing a deep breath, "you sure do know something about it. Ever worked in it before?" "Only with my teeth." "Oh--quit your jollying, Mr. Geoffrey, if you want me t' help you!" "Solemn as an owl, Mrs. Trapes!"