e and I'd rather go alone."

"Say," said Dick much perturbed, "what have I done?"

"You haven't done anything, but I want to go back by myself. All I have
to do is to change when I'm over the bridge. I'll let you and Mrs.
Pickens know when I decide."

She pushed her fare in at the ticket-window, moved through the
turnstile, and without looking around hurried down the platform and
boarded the incoming train. Dick, deciding that this was a time to let a
girl have her own way, however foolish it might be, turned back to his
home and indulged in delicious thoughts of the future with Hertha each
morning opposite him at table and each evening going with him somewhere,
it mattered not where, so long as they were together.

What to do? What to do? The bumping cars gave no answer to the riddle.
To go to this new home or to stay in the old one? How could she decide
which was best when there were advantages and disadvantages in both? It
was a nuisance to weigh and balance. Perhaps the suggestion she had made
in talking with Ellen was worth something. She could not go ahead and
plan things, but if she waited things would happen. She had not planned
the strike but it had relieved her of overtaxing work; she had not
thought of moving but Dick Brown had, and unquestionably he had found an
attractive home. Probably he was right, too, regarding the business
school. Why not let other people do the planning and fall in with their
schemes if they seemed good? If there was anything odious it was having
to make changes, but if a change were made for you, you might accept it
as the easiest thing to do. And yet she did not want to leave Kathleen.

But Kathleen did not help her case as she and Hertha and William
Applebaum sat together at the little dinner that had so disturbed the
mind of Richard Brown. It was a usual enough affair, at the French
_table d'hote_ that they all three liked, and Madame and her daughters
waited on the table and saw to it that the meat and vegetables were upon
hot plates and the salad upon cold ones. But this evening, Hertha, tired
from her previous night of excitement, without an opportunity to rest
after her outing with Dick, found her Irish friend's propaganda
regarding capital and labor wearying and even unkind. Applebaum,
appreciating her fatigue, tried to turn the conversation into
indifferent channels, but Kathleen would not be moved from her course.
She had learned that the girls were in danger of losing