must! I'd come over myself if it wasn't for my cold."

"As if I'd let you!"

"There isn't anybody here, only Tommy. Even Alice is gone. Oh, Billy,
Billy, this only goes to prove what I've always said, that _no_ woman
_ought_ to be a wife until she's an efficient housekeeper; and--"

"Yes, yes, Aunt Hannah, I know," moaned Billy, frenziedly. "But I am a
wife, and I'm not an efficient housekeeper; and Hugh Calderwell won't
wait for me to learn. He's coming to-night. _To-night!_ And I've got to
do something. Never mind. I'll fix it some way. Good-by!"

"But, Billy, Billy! Oh, my grief and conscience," fluttered Aunt
Hannah's voice across the wires as Billy snapped the receiver into
place.

For the second time that day Billy backed palpitatingly against the
wall. Her eyes sought the clock fearfully.

Fifteen minutes past four. She had an hour and three quarters. She
could, of course, telephone Bertram to dine Calderwell at a club or some
hotel. But to do this now, the very first time, when it had been her
own suggestion that he "bring them home"--no, no, she could not do that!
Anything but that! Besides, very likely she could not reach Bertram,
anyway. Doubtless he had left the Winthrops' by this time.

There was Marie. She could telephone Marie. But Marie could not very
well come just now, she knew; and then, too, there was Cyril to be taken
into consideration. How Cyril would gibe at the wife who had to call in
all the neighbors just because her husband was bringing home a friend to
dinner! How he would--Well, he shouldn't! He should not have the chance.
So, there!

With a jerk Mrs. Bertram Henshaw pulled herself away from the wall and
stood erect. Her eyes snapped, and the very poise of her chin spelled
determination.

Very well, she would show them. Was not Bertram bringing this man home
because he was proud of her? Mighty proud he would be if she had to call
in half of Boston to get his dinner for him! Nonsense! She would get
it herself. Was not this the time, if ever, to be an oak? A vine,
doubtless, would lean and cling and telephone, and whine "I can't!" But
not an oak. An oak would hold up its head and say "I can!" An oak would
go ahead and get that dinner. She would be an oak. She would get that
dinner.

What if she didn't know how to cook bread and cake and pies and
things? One did not have to cook bread and cake and pies just to get
a dinner--meat and potatoes and vegetables! Besides, she _could_ ma