g. The afternoon was well advanced. Jim and
Virginia would soon be home. She must think presently of getting
dinner.

The baby slept soundly in her little crib undisturbed by the noise of
the wintry gale outdoors. Fanny sighed as she fondly gazed on the
chubby little face. How unfair to bring such an innocent into the
world, only to inherit trouble and want! What had become of the
brilliant prospects for her daughter once held out when Virginia was a
rich man's wife? Instead of improving, their situation grew steadily
worse. Jim was making no progress. Instead of his salary being
increased, it was always being reduced. He was the kind of man who
made progress backwards, like a crab. He was not practical--that was
the trouble. If only he had fewer ideas, perhaps he would make more
money. It was very discouraging. But what good did grumbling ever do?
The work had to be done and the quicker she finished the stove, the
better.

Wearily she rose from her seat and with a last look at the baby, was
going towards the kitchen, when suddenly the doorbell rang violently.
The baby started in its sleep. Indignant at the noise Fanny went and
opened.

"Is that you, Jim?" she asked crossly.

"Yes," he called out.

"Well, I like your nerve!" she ejaculated. "Couldn't you make less
noise? You woke the baby!"

Her husband entered, attired in a heavy overcoat, the collar of which
was turned up. His nose was blue, his eyes red and he was shivering
with cold.

"Gee! but it's tough weather, all right!"

Taking off his overcoat and muffler, and placing them on a chair
together with his lunch box, he crossed the room to the radiator to
warm his hands. Fanny, still fuming, went to the baby carriage, folded
the blanket and arranged the cushions. Angrily she exclaimed:

"Is that why you must ring the bell and wake the baby when you have
the key? Don't you think I've got enough to do running this flat and
cooking for three people and looking after the baby without having to
go and open the door for you? Why didn't you open it yourself?"

Her husband looked at her in a stupid kind of way. With a grin he
said:

"Well, if you must know, I've lost my key."

"Lost your key?"

"Yes."

"Don't you know that keys cost twenty-five cents apiece?"

"Sure I do."

"Well," she went on indignantly, "you want to remember that every
quarter--yes, and every nickel--counts these days. You're not working
for Mr. Stafford at a hundred a week now;