me the voice from the big chair.

Sour-dough! That's what those coats, such as Frank had on, were called.
She had been wondering all the time what the name was. It was only the
other day that Gertie had used the word in saying that she wished
Eddie--no, Ed--could afford a new one. What a ridiculous name for a
garment.

"I'm sorry I was rude to you, Gertie. I apologize to you for what I
said."

"If there's nothing more to be said, we'd better go back to our work."

While her brother was speaking to his wife, Frank had taken a step
forward. Somehow, the smile on his face had lost all of its ordinary
mockery.

"You didn't find that very easy to say, I reckon."

"I'm quite satisfied." And then Gertie had dared to add: "Let this be a
lesson to you, my girl!"

That was the last straw. The men had turned to go. In a flash she had
made up her mind. Her brother's house was no longer possible. Gertie
had, in a moment of passion, confessed that she hated her; had always
hated her in her secret heart ever since she had read that protesting
letter. What daily humiliations would she not have to endure now that
she had matched her strength against Gertie and lost! It meant one long
crucifixion of all pride and self-respect. No, it was not to be borne!

There was one avenue of escape open, and only one. _He_ had said that he
was willing to offer a home to a woman who was willing to assume her
share of the burden of making one. It was even possible that he would be
both kind and considerate, no matter how many mistakes she made at
first, to a woman who tried to learn. Of one thing she was certain, he
would know how to see that his wife was treated with respect by all the
world. For the moment, her bleeding pride cried to her that that was the
only thing in life that was absolutely necessary. Nothing else mattered.

"Frank, will you wait a minute?"

"Sure. What can I do for you?"

"I've understood that I'm not wanted here. I'm in the way. You said just
now you wanted a woman to cook and bake for you, wash and mend your
clothes, and keep your shack clean and tidy. Will I do?"

"Sure."

"Nora!" Her brother was shaking her by the shoulder.

"I'm afraid you'll have to marry me."

"I guess it _would_ be more respectable."

"Nora, you can't mean it: you're in a temper! See here, Frank, you
mustn't pay any attention to her."

"Shameless, that's what I call it." That was Gertie.

"He wants a woman to look after him. He pra