come upstairs, her daughters would come upstairs--what
was it, one baby! Martie was allowed a cupful of hot milk, and went to
sleep with one arm about the flannel bundle that was Margaret.

Well--she thought, drifting into happy dreams--of course, the hospital
was wonderful: the uniformed nurses, the system, the sanitation. But
this was wonderful, too. So many persons had to be consulted, had to be
involved, in the coming of a hospital baby; so much time, so many
different rooms and hallways.

The clock had not yet struck two; she had given Wallace his breakfast
at eleven, Isabeau would be home at five; Grandma had gone downstairs
to borrow some of the put-away clothes of the last little Napthaly.
Martie had nothing to do but smile and sleep. To-morrow, perhaps, they
would let her go on with "The Life of the Bee."

Peace lapped soul and body. The long-approaching trial was over. In a
few days she would arise, mistress of herself once more, and free to
remake her life.

First, they must move. Even if they could afford to pay six hundred
dollars a year in rent, this flat was neither convenient nor sanitary
for little children. Secondly, Wallace must understand that while he
worked and was sober, his wife would do her share; if he failed her,
she must find some other life. Thirdly, as soon as the baby's claims
made it possible, Martie must find some means of making money; her own
money, independent of what Wallace chose to give.

She pondered the various possibilities. She could open a
boarding-house; although that meant an outlay for furniture and rent.
She could take a course in library work or stenography; that meant
leaving the children all day.

She began to study advertisements in the newspapers for working
housekeepers, and one day wrote a businesslike application to the
company that controlled a line of fruit steamers between the city and
Panama. Mrs. Napthaly's sister-in-law was stewardess on one of these,
and had good pay. Short stories, film-plays, newspaper work--other
women did these things. But how had they begun?

"Begin at the beginning!" she said cheerfully to herself. The move was
the beginning. Through the cool autumn days she resolutely hunted for
flats. It was a wearisome task, especially when Wallace accompanied
her, for his tastes ran to expensive and vestibuled apartments and
fashionable streets. Martie sternly held to quiet side streets, cut off
from the city by the barriers of elevated tr