ose in the town a current of malicious criticism and
protest--that she "did not live up to her principles."

To this she paid no attention; her work was now too well planted, too
increasingly prosperous to be weakened by small sneers.

Her mother, growing plumper now, thriving continuously in her new
lines of work, kept the hotel under her immediate management, and
did bookkeeping for the whole concern. New Union Home ran itself, and
articles were written about it in magazines; so that here and there
in other cities similar clubs were started, with varying success. The
restaurant was increasingly popular; Diantha's cooks were highly skilled
and handsomely paid, and from the cheap lunch to the expensive banquet
they gave satisfaction.

But the "c. f. d." was the darling of her heart, and it prospered
exceedingly. "There is no advertisement like a pleased customer," and
her pleased customers grew in numbers and in enthusiasm. Family after
family learned to prize the cleanliness and quiet, the odorlessness and
flylessness of a home without a kitchen, and their questioning guests
were converted by the excellent of the meals.

Critical women learned at last that a competent cook can really produce
better food than an incompetent one; albeit without the sanctity of the
home.

"Sanctity of your bootstraps!" protested one irascible gentleman. "Such
talk is all nonsense! I don't want _sacred_ meals--I want good ones--and
I'm getting them, at last!"

"We don't brag about 'home brewing' any more," said another, "or
'home tailoring,' or 'home shoemaking.' Why all this talk about 'home
cooking'?"

What pleased the men most was not only the good food, but its clock-work
regularity; and not only the reduced bills but the increased health and
happiness of their wives. Domestic bliss increased in Orchardina, and
the doctors were more rigidly confined to the patronage of tourists.

Ross Warden did his best. Under the merciless friendliness of Mr.
Thaddler he had been brought to see that Diantha had a right to do this
if she would, and that he had no right to prevent her; but he did not
like it any the better.

When she rolled away in her little car in the bright, sweet mornings, a
light went out of the day for him. He wanted her there, in the home--his
home--his wife--even when he was not in it himself. And in this
particular case it was harder than for most men, because he was in the
house a good deal, in his study, with no b