ed the other, resenting the interference with her own
plans and pleasures. She felt cheated because Ben permitted himself no
racing, no circuits with her--and yet outwardly and in reality she was
deeply sympathetic. She pitied while she accused and resented.

Their ride was short and unsatisfying. But as her guests remained for
luncheon--Bertha was learning to call it that--the outing ended in a
rare delight; for while "the two invalids" sat on the piazza, Bertha
showed Ben her garden and stables, and the greenhouses she was building,
and this hour was one of almost perfect peace.

Ben, once outside Alice's depressing presence, grew gay and
single-minded in his enjoyment of his hostess and her surroundings.

"It must seem like Aladdin and his wonderful lamp to you," he said, as
they stood watching the workmen putting in the glass to the greenhouses.
"All you have to do is rub it, and miracles happen."

"That's just what it does," she answered, with gravity. "I give myself a
knock in the head every time I write out a check, just to see if I am
awake; but I can see I'll get used to it in time. That's the funny
thing: a feller can get used to anything. The trouble with me is I don't
know what to do nor how to do it. I ought to be learning things: I ought
to go to school, but I can't. You see, I had to buckle down to work
before I finished the high-school, and I don't know a thing except
running a hotel. I wish you'd give me a few pointers."

"I'll do what I can, but I am afraid my advice wouldn't be very
pertinent. What can I help you on?"

"Well, I don't know. Alice"--she spoke the word with a little
hesitation--"said something to me the other day about charity, and all
that. Well, now, I'm helping mother's church--a little--and I'm helping
up at Sibley, but I don't know what else to do. I suppose I ought to do
some good with the money that's rolling in on us. I've got my house
pretty well stocked and fitted up, and I'm about stumped. I can't sit
down, and just eat and sleep, ride and drive, can I?"

"There are women who do that and nothing else."

"Well, I can't. I've always had something to do. I like to play as well
as the next one, but I don't believe I could spend my time here just
sitting around."

"It's no small matter to run such a house as this."

"Well, there's something in that; but the point is, what's it all for?
We're alone in it most of the time, and it don't seem right. Another
thing, most of ou