ht have dispensed with her irregular and uncertain earnings, had
these not represented an effort that was the essence of life to her.
She could even afford, for a time, the inconsistent luxury of an idle
daughter; but if Marvel desired to exercise her teacher's gift, why
not do so in Chicago?

"How comfortable we are!" said Clarissa, drowsily and happily. "That
blue dress is very becoming to you, {195} child. I believe we can't do
better than to keep this flat for next winter. I wonder if we could
n't arrange with Myra Ann to come back in the fall? We could pay her
half-wages while we were out of town. Her cooking seems to agree with
my stomach better than I dared suppose any home cooking could!"

"Why, mother! You forget I am still an instructor-elect at Midwest. I
must go to my work in September."

Clarissa started up against her pillows and spoke with her usual
vehemence and directness.

"I do not wish you to go back to Midwest, Marvel. I want you to stay
with me. I have had too little of my daughter's society in my life."

The girl dropped her work and faced her mother. "That, mother, is
hardly my fault."

{196}

Their glances met and crossed, rapier-like, with the words.
Apprehension seized Clarissa. She did not fathom the meaning of Marvel's
gaze.

"Do you mean it is my fault, Marvel?"

Her daughter kept silence. For almost the first time in her life, the
older woman felt herself compelled to valiant self-defense.

"My work has justified itself, Marvel. I am not boasting when I say
that I truthfully believe the good day of release from servitude is
nearer for all women because I had the courage to leave my home and go
into the wilderness, preaching the coming of the Woman's Age and
furthering, even though feebly, all the good causes that will help it
on."

Marvel still kept silence. She knew so many things to say! Was it not
better to utter none of them?

{197}

"I wanted," continued Clarissa, "to give my mite toward making this a
better world for girl-babies like you to be born into."

Her face wore the deep, wistful look that marked her highest moments;
this was the reason upon which in her secret soul she relied for
justification--but her daughter was not touched by it at all!

"Well, Marvel?"

"Really, mother," said the girl crisply, driven to make answer, "don't
you realize that you would never have gone in for Humanity if you had
n't hated cooking?"

"Why cook when I hated it?" Claris