or his reading and writing when he had toughened his mental
muscles, he thought. Lynda deplored this, but Truedale explained:

"You see, Lyn, when I began to carve the thing out--the play, you
know--I had no idea how to handle the tools; like many fools with a
touch of talent, I thought I could manage without preparation. I've
learned better. You cannot get a thing over to people unless you know
something of life--speak the language. I'm learning, and when I feel
that I cannot _help_ writing--I'll write."

"Good!" Lynda saw his point; "and now let's haunt the theatres--see the
machinery in running order. We'll find out what people want and _why_."

So they went to the theatre and read plays. Brace made the wholesome
third and their lives settled into calm enjoyment that was charming but
which sometimes--not often, but occasionally--made Lynda pause and
consider. It would not do--for Con--to fall into a pace that might
defeat his best good.

But this thought brought a deep crimson to the girl's cheeks.

And then something happened. It was so subtle that Lynda Kendall, least
of all, realized the true significance.

Once in the early days of her secured self-support, William Truedale had
said to her:

"You give too much attention, girl, to your tailor and too little to
your dressmaker."

Lynda had laughingly called her friend frivolous and defended her
wardrobe.

"One cannot doll up for business, Uncle William."

"Is business your whole life, Lynda? If so you had better reform it. If
women are going to pattern their lives after men's they must go the
whole way. A sensible man recognizes the need of shutting the office
door sometimes and putting on his dress suit."

"Well, but Uncle William, what is the matter with this perfectly built
suit? I always slip a fresh blouse on when I am off duty. I hate to be
always changing."

"If you had a mother, Lynda, she would make you see what I mean. An old
fungus like me cannot be expected to command respect from such an
up-to-date humbug as you!"

They had laughed it off and Lynda had, once or twice, donned a house
gown to please her critical friend, but eventually had slipped back into
suits and blouses.

All of a sudden one day--it was nearing holiday time--she left her
workroom at midday and, almost shamefacedly, "went shopping." As the
fever got into her blood she became reckless, and by five o'clock had
bought and ordered home more delicate and exquisite finery