hird day of their visit, to a condition of
continual tears.

This was her home, this was the place sacred to George and herself, and
their love. Nobody in the world,--not his mother, not hers, had their
mothers been living!--was welcome here. She had planned to be such a
good wife to him, so thoughtful, so helpful, so brave when he must be
away. But she could not rise to the height of sharing him with other
women, and saying whatever she said to him in the hearing of witnesses.
And then she dared not complain too openly! That was an additional
hardship, for if George insulted his guests, then that horrid Penny--

Genevieve had always liked Penny, and had danced and flirted with him
aeons ago. She had actually told Betty that she hoped Betty would marry
Penny. But now she felt that she loathed him. He was secretly laughing
at George, at George who had dared to take a stand for old-fashioned
virtue and the purity of the home!

It was all so unexpected, so hard. Women everywhere were talking about
George's article, and expected her to defend it! George, she could have
defended. But how could she talk about a subject upon which she was not
informed, in which, indeed, as she was rather fond of saying, she was
absolutely uninterested?

George was changed, too. Something was worrying him; and it was hard on
the darling old boy to come home to Miss Emelene and the cat and Eleanor
and Alys, every night! Emelene adored him, of course, and Alys was
always interesting and vivacious, but--but it wasn't like coming home to
his own little Genevieve!

The bride wept in secret, and grew nervous and timid in manner. Mrs.
Brewster-Smith, however, found this comprehensible enough, and one hot
summer afternoon Genevieve went into George's office with her lovely
head held high, her color quite gone, and her breath coming quickly with
indignation. [Illustration: It was hard on the darling old boy to come
home to Miss Emelene and the cat and Eleanor and Alys every night!]
"George--I don't care what we do, or where we go! But I can't stand it!
She said--she said--she told me--"

Her husband was alone in his office, and Genevieve was now crying in his
arms. He patted her shoulder tenderly.

"I'm so worried all the time about dinners, and Lottie's going, and that
child getting downstairs and letting in flies and licking the frosting
off the maple cake," sobbed Genevieve, "that of _course_ I show it! And
if I _have_ given up my gym work, i