hy you don't see much of her,
I guess."

Judge Emery forbore to argue the point. "Where are they now?" he asked.

"Oh, upstairs, out of my way. Mother's usual state of mind about Lydia
is more so than ever, I warn you. She thought I wasn't refined enough
company."

"Now, Etta, you know your mother never thought any such thing."

"Well, I know she was inconsistent, whatever she thought. While we were
here alone she was speculating about Paul Hollister like anything. And
yet, because I just happened to mention to Lydia that he is getting on
in the world, I got put down as if I'd tried to make her marry him for
his prospects."

There was an edge in her voice which her father deprecated, rubbing his
shaven chin mildly. He deplored the appearance of a flaw in the smooth
surface of harmony he loved to see in his family.

"Well, you know, Marietta, we aim to have everything about right for
Lydia. She's all we've got left now the rest of you are settled."

The deepening of the careworn lines in the woman's face seemed a
justification for the undisguised bitterness of her answer. "I don't see
why nobody must breathe a word to her about what everybody knows is so.
What's the use of pretending that we'd be satisfied or she'd be
comfortable a minute if Paul didn't promise to be a money-maker--or at
least to have a good income?"

She turned away and walked rapidly down the hall, followed by her
father, half apologetic, half reproachful. "Why, Daughter, you don't
grudge your sister! We couldn't do so much for you; but we're better off
since you were a young lady and we want Lydia to have the benefit."

Mrs. Mortimer paused on the veranda and stood looking in a troubled
silence at the broad, well-kept lawn, stretching down to the asphalt
street, shaded by vigorous young maples. Her father waited for her to
speak, too good a lawyer to spoil by superfluous words the effect of a
well-calculated appeal.

Finally she turned to him contritely. "I'm hateful, Dad, and I'm sorry.
Of course I don't grudge dear little Lydia anything. Only I have a
pretty hard time of it scratching along, and when I'm awfully tired of
contriving and calculating how to manage somehow and anyhow, it's hard
to come up to the standard of saying everything's lovely that you and
Mother want for Lydia."

"Anything the trouble specially?" asked her father guardedly.

"Oh, no; same old thing. Keeping up a two-maid and a man establishment
on a one-maid incom