es an' by that same token, a
girl has got to have somethin' beside work. That's gospel true, Miss
Thorley. My ol' father used to say you robbed the ol' when you took
pleasures from the young an', seems if, that's gospel true, too. Land,
if I hadn't had good times when I was a girl to remember sometimes I'd
go crazy. Layin' up pleasant memories is what everyone can do an' it
means as much as money in the bank. This is pretty lace on your waist,
Miss Thorley. I dunno as I ever saw just this pattern."

"It's imported," Miss Thorley told her listlessly as she lingered in
the cosy kitchen. She was pale and her eyes were dull. She was tired,
she told herself impatiently. The summer had been hot and she had
worked hard. It irritated her that the keen eyes of Mrs. Donovan saw
that she was not happy but how could she be happy when she had so many
things to annoy her? She should be happy, she was independent, she had
work, the two things that had seemed so necessary to happiness but
recently she had been conscious of a desire for something more. It
made her furious to be restless and discontented and so listless and
colorless that people noticed it.

Mrs. Donovan snorted at the imported lace. "That's it. Girls nowadays
think 't fine clothes 'll make 'em happy. An imported waist costs
more'n one made in Waloo an' it keeps a girl strong enough to work for
the silk stockin's she's got to have," she said with scorn. "I don't
wonder there's so many bach'lors when I figure how much money it costs
now to dress a girl."

"Is that why men are bachelors?" asked astonished Mary Rose. "Mr.
Jerry is a bachelor, his Aunt Mary told him so right in front of me.
She doesn't like it in him. And Mr. Strahan's one and Jimmie Bronson
and Mr. Wells and Mr. Jarvis. Why, what a lot of bachelors are right
under this very roof!"

"That's just it," laughed Mrs. Donovan. "'Stead of havin' so many
bach'lor flats in Waloo there oughta be more fam'ly cottages."

"There's Mr. Jerry now." Mary Rose ran to the window to wave her hand
to her friend as he drove his car up the alley. Solomon was with him
and he looked quite as well on the front seat as Mr. Jerry had hoped he
would. "I could have asked him if that was why he was a bachelor if he
hadn't gone away."

Miss Thorley crossed the kitchen and stood beside her. She saw the
automobile turn the corner and disappear down the cross street.

"Mary Rose," she suddenly put her arm aro