led up on Mary's couch, resting after her journey. "I
am so happy, Mary. No woman knows anything about it, until she has had
it for herself. A man's strength is so wonderful--and Gordon's care of
me--oh, Mary, if there were only another man in the world for you like
Gordon I should be perfectly content."

It was a fervent gentle echo of Aunt Frances' demand upon her, and Mary
suppressing her raging jealousy of the man who had stolen her sister,
asked somewhat wistfully, "Can you talk about me, for a minute, and
forget that you have a husband?"

"I don't need to forget Gordon," was the serene response. "I can keep
him in the back of my mind."

Mary picked up her pen, and underscored "_Soup_"; then: "Constance,
darling," she said, "would you feel dreadfully if I went to work?"

"What kind of work, Mary?"

"In one of the departments,--as stenographer."

"But you don't know anything about it."

"Yes, I do, I've been studying ever since you went away."

"But why, Mary?"

"Because--oh, can't you see, Constance? I can't be sure of--Barry--for
future support. And I won't go with Aunt Frances. And this house is
simply eating up the little that father left us. When you married, I
thought the rental of the Tower Rooms would keep things going, but it
won't. And I won't sell the house. I love every old stick and stone
of it. And anyhow, must I sit and fold my hands all the rest of my
life just because I am a woman?"

"But Mary, dear, you will marry--there's Porter."

"Constance, I couldn't think of marriage that way--as a chance to be
taken care of. Oh, Con, I want to wait--for love."

"Dearest, of course. But you can live with us. Gordon would never
consent to your working--he thinks it is dreadful for a woman to have
to fight the world."

Mary shook her head. "No, it wouldn't be fair to you. It is never
fair for an outsider to intrude upon the happiness of a home. If your
duet is ever to be a trio, it must not be with my big blundering voice,
which could make only a discord, but a little piping one."

She looked up to meet Constance's shy, self-conscious eyes.

Mary flew to her, and knelt beside the couch. "Darling, darling?"

And now the list was forgotten and Susan Jenks coming up for it was
made a party to that tremulous secret, and the fate of the dinner was
threatened until Mary, coming back to realities, kissed her sister and
went to her desk, and held herself sternly to the five followin