“However do you manage it all?” Honora asked one evening when Kate had been telling a tale of psychically sinister import.  “How can you bring yourself to talk over such terrible and revolting subjects as you have to, before strange men in open court?”

“A nice old man asked me that very question to-day as I was coming out of the courtroom,” said Kate.  “He said he didn’t like to see young women doing such work as I was doing.  ‘Who will do it, then?’ I asked.  ’The men,’ said he.  ‘Do you think we can leave it to them?’ I asked.  ’Perhaps not,’ he admitted.  ‘But at least it could be left to older women.’  ’They haven’t the strength for it,’ I told him, and then I gave him a notion of the number of miles I had ridden the day before in the street-car-it was nearly sixty, I believe.  ‘Are you sure it’s worth it?’ he asked.  He had been listening to the complaint I was making against a young man who has, to my knowledge, completely destroyed the self-respect of five girls—­and I’ve known him but a short time.  You can make an estimate of the probable number of crimes of his if it amuses you.  ’Don’t you think it’s worth while if that man is shut up where he can’t do any more mischief?’ I asked him.  Of course he thought it was; but he was still shaking his head over me when I left him.  He still thought I ought to be at home making tidies.  I can’t imagine that it ever occurred to him that I was a disinterested economist in trying to save myself from waste.”

She laughed lightly in spite of her serious words.

“Anyway,” she said, “I find this kind of life too amusing to resign.  One of the settlement workers was complaining to me this morning about the inherent lack of morals among some of our children.  It appears that the Harrigans—­there are seven of them—­commandeered some old clothes that had been sent in for charitable distribution.  They poked around in the trunks when no one was watching and helped themselves to what they wanted.  The next day they came to a party at the Settlement House togged up in their plunder.  My friend reproved them, but they seemed to be impervious to her moral comments, so she went to the mother.  ‘Faith,’ said Mrs. Harrigan, ’I tould them not to be bringing home trash like that.  “It ain’t worth carryin’ away,” says I to them.’”

About this time Kate was invited to become a resident of Hull House.  She was touched and complimented, but, with a loyalty for which there was, perhaps, no demand, she remained faithful to her friends at the Caravansary.  She was loath to take up her residence with a group which would have too much community of interest.  The ladies at Mrs. Dennison’s offered variety.  Life was dramatizing itself for her there.  In Honora and Marna and Mrs. Barsaloux and those quiet yet intelligent gentlewomen, Mrs. Goodrich and Mrs. Applegate, in the very servants whose pert individualism distressed the mid-Victorian Mrs. Dennison, Kate saw working those mysterious world forces concerning which she was so curious.  The frequent futility of Nature’s effort to throw to the top this hitherto unutilized feminine force was no less absorbing than the success which sometimes attended the impulsion.  To the general and widespread convulsion, the observer could no more be oblivious than to an earthquake or a tidal wave.