iety.

"Oh, in a very simple way. Aunt Emma told Uncle Jim, and Uncle Jim told
me," Then, out of the kindness of his heart, the young husband went on
speaking in such wise, according to his best judgment, as should console
the very apparent misery of his wife. "My dear," he said gently, "I want
you to know that I don't really blame you for this wretched strike. I'd
have had it on my hands just the same, if you'd never had a finger in
the pie. So, don't go grieving over something that can't be helped. And,
of course, I give you all credit for the very best of intentions in the
matter. Only--" he broke off discreetly; but the discretion had come too
late.

"Only what?" Cicily questioned, quietly. There was something ominous in
the quiet, and this the man realized.

Nevertheless, Hamilton was not one to shirk that which he deemed his
duty. So, now, he answered lucidly with just what was in his mind as to
the future relations between them, although he understood sufficiently
well the ambitions of the woman before him to know that he must wound
her deeply.

"Sweetheart," he said softly, "I don't wish to grieve you in any way.
Yet, I must insist calmly now on what I said yesterday in the heat of
anger. You must attend to your duty in the home. It is for me, and for
me alone, to conduct matters of business outside. Can you not understand
that you are by nature and training utterly incompetent for the role you
seek to play? Business aptitude is not a thing to be picked up in an
instant, haphazard, at the wish of anyone. It is something acquired by
long striving and experience. The man has it in greater or less degree,
as the result of generations of the work; he inherits an aptitude; he
develops it by systematic training. Feminine intuition cannot give you a
substitute for the practical needs of business. So, my dear, I beg you
to be reasonable. You must not meddle further in my affairs. But, don't,
for heaven's sake, be melancholy over it. I love you, my dear, and I
want you to be happy. You will be, if only you can get the right point
of view. Try! Won't you, dear?" As he finished speaking with this
appeal, Hamilton leaned forward anxiously, pleadingly. Deep down in his
heart he felt a glow of pride over the mildness and the reasonableness
with which he had presented the case in its true light to this
irrational, dear creature.

For a long minute, Cicily vouchsafed no answer, although she felt the
intensity of his gaze