estaurant with a hard pain at the back of her neck and a deep
wrinkle from it between her eyebrows. They had been harder of late,
these headaches, and lasted longer, and this one not only failed to
yield to the practised massage of her kindly housemaid, but baffled the
nearest doctor and left her, finally, a pallid, shaken creature, who
saw written on every wall in the little apartment, as she dragged
herself about it:

_I must not take any coal-tar preparation because my heart simply won't
stand it!_

"And let me tell you this, Miss Molly Dickett," said the great
specialist she had consulted as a matter of course (he ordered Trust
Magnates to Egypt and consulted at Presidents' bed-sides, and if Mrs.
Dickett had known that he never accepted a cent from Molly, what would
she have said?) "let me tell you this. You think you're a very
remarkable young woman, don't you?"

"Don't you, Dr. Stanchon?" Molly retorted placidly.

He patted her shoulder and capitulated. "But you ought to be spanked,
you know," he said. "Now, listen. For what was all this vitality and
endurance given you, my child?"

"If you mean twins," said Molly curtly, "I won't. There are plenty of
women to have twins, doctor."

"But there are not plenty of women to have _your_ twins," said he.

She grimaced and blew a saucy kiss to him.

"I see why they all want you!" she told him. "But, honestly, do
married women never have headaches?"

"There's no good being clever with me, child," he went on, a little
wearily (he seemed middle-aged beyond words to her). "You are making a
great mistake and when you find it out, it will in all probability be
too late to remedy it, worse luck! _That's_ the real harm of all this
Advanced Woman stuff: if you could only get it over before twenty-five!
But when you wake up, you're nearer forty, and then--what's the
difference?"

"I'll marry, then, maybe!"

"Dear child, it doesn't matter a continental what you do, then," he
said simply.

She gave a little shudder, in spite of herself. He sounded so final,
and his eyes were so bright and deep. She stared into them and,
somehow, lost herself--the eyes turned to bright points in space, and
Time seemed to stop, with a sort of whir like a clock that runs down...

"There, there!" his voice came roughly. "None of that, my girl, none
of that! You _are_ in a nice state! Now, you march off on a vacation,
and take it on a boat of some sort--do you hear? And, li