, they are in all the departments, for that
matter. We have a good deal of fun down there some days."

She lifted her head. "More than you do at home 'some days,' I expect,
papa!" she said.

He protested feebly. "Now, I didn't mean that--I didn't want to trouble
you----"

She looked at him through winking eyelashes. "I'm sorry I called it a
'hole,' papa."

"No, no," he protested, gently. "It was your mother said that."

"No. I did, too."

"Well, if you did, it was only because you'd heard her."

She shook her head, then kissed him. "I'm going to talk to her," she
said, and rose decisively.

But at this, her father's troubled voice became quickly louder: "You
better let her alone. I just wanted to have a little talk with you. I
didn't mean to start any--your mother won't----"

"Now, papa!" Alice spoke cheerfully again, and smiled upon him. "I want
you to quit worrying! Everything's going to be all right and nobody's
going to bother you any more about anything. You'll see!"

She carried her smile out into the hall, but after she had closed the
door her face was all pity; and her mother, waiting for her in the
opposite room, spoke sympathetically.

"What's the matter, Alice? What did he say that's upset you?"

"Wait a minute, mama." Alice found a handkerchief, used it for eyes and
suffused nose, gulped, then suddenly and desolately sat upon the bed.
"Poor, poor, POOR papa!" she whispered.

"Why?" Mrs. Adams inquired, mildly. "What's the matter with him?
Sometimes you act as if he weren't getting well. What's he been talking
about?"

"Mama--well, I think I'm pretty selfish. Oh, I do!"

"Did he say you were?"

"Papa? No, indeed! What I mean is, maybe we're both a little selfish to
try to make him go out and hunt around for something new."

Mrs. Adams looked thoughtful. "Oh, that's what he was up to!"

"Mama, I think we ought to give it up. I didn't dream it had really hurt
him."

"Well, doesn't he hurt us?"

"Never that I know of, mama."

"I don't mean by SAYING things," Mrs. Adams explained, impatiently.
"There are more ways than that of hurting people. When a man sticks to a
salary that doesn't provide for his family, isn't that hurting them?"

"Oh, it 'provides' for us well enough, mama. We have what we need--if I
weren't so extravagant. Oh, _I_ know I am!"

But at this admission her mother cried out sharply. "'Extravagant!'
You haven't one tenth of what the other girls you go with have. And