-pot was boiling, the lamb chops broiled to
perfection and she was seated before the dainty, snow-white table, the
kitten softly begging at her feet. Half an hour later, every dish and
pot and pan was back in its place in perfect order. She prided herself
on her mastery of the details of cooking and the most economical
administration of every dollar devoted to housekeeping. She studied
cooking in the best schools the city afforded. She meant to show her
Knight a thing or two in this line when the time came. His wife would
not be an ignorant slattern, the victim of incompetent servants. No
servant could fool her. She would know the business of the house down to
its minutest detail.

Not that she loved dish-washing and pot-polishing and scrubbing. It was
simply a part of the Game of Life she must play in the ideal home she
would build. There was no drudgery in it for this reason. She was a
soldier on the drill grounds preparing for the battle on the successful
issue of which hung her happiness and the happiness of the one of
whom she dreamed. She might miss some of the dangerous fun which Jane
Anderson could enjoy without a scratch, but she would make sure of the
fundamental things which Jane would never stop to consider.

She threw herself on the couch in her favorite position against the
pillows, drew the kitten into her arms and hugged him violently.

"It's all right, Mr. Thomascat; we'll show them," she purred softly.
"We'll see who wins at last, the eagle who soars or the little wren in
the hedge close beside the garden wall--we'll see, Kitty--we'll see!"

The room was still, the noise of the street-cars below muffled with the
first soft blanket of snow. The street lamps flickered in the wind with
a pale subdued light that scarcely brought out the furnishings of her
nest. She was in the habit of dreaming in this window for hours with
only the light from the lamps on the street.

The Square, deserted by its tramp lovers, lay white and still and cold.
The old battle with the Blue Devils was on again within. The fight with
Jane had been easy. She had always found it easy to face temptation in
the concrete. The moment Satan appeared in human shape she was up in
arms and ready for the fray. It was this silent hour she dreaded when
the defenses of the soul were down.

There was no use to lie to herself. She was utterly lonely and
heartsick.

She had guarded the portals of life with religious care--with a care
altog