n for my bathtub. I am particularly fond of a salt rub."

So far, Eileen had not deigned to enter the conversation. It was all so
human, so far from her ideas of entertaining that the disapproval on her
lips was not sufficiently veiled to be invisible, and John Gilman,
glancing in her direction, realized that he was having the best time he
had ever had in the Strong household since the passing of his friends,
Doctor and Mrs. Strong, vaguely wondered why. And it occurred to him
that Linda and Marian were dominating the party. He said the most
irritating thing possible in the circumstances: "I am afraid you are not
feeling well this evening, Eileen."

Eileen laughed shortly.

"The one perfect thing about me," she said with closely cut precision,
"is my health. I haven't the faintest notion what it means to be ill. I
am merely waiting for the conversation to take a I turn where I can join
in it intelligently."

"Why, bless the child!" exclaimed Linda. "Can't you talk intelligently
about a suitable location for a home? On what subject is a woman
supposed to be intelligent if she is not at her best on the theme of
home. If you really are not interested you had better begin to polish
up, because it appeals to me that the world goes just so far in one
direction, and then it whirls to the right-about and goes equally as far
in the opposite direction. If Daddy were living I think he would say we
have reached the limit with apartment house homes minus fireplaces, with
restaurant dining minus a blessing, with jazz music minus melody, with
jazz dancing minus grace, with national progress minus cradles."

"Linda!" cried Eileen indignantly.

"Good gracious!" cried Linda. "Do I get the shillalah for that? Weren't
all of us rocked in cradles? I think that the pendulum has swung far
and it is time to swing back to where one man and one woman choose any
little spot on God's footstool, build a nest and plan their lives in
accord with personal desire and inclination instead of aping their
neighbors."

"Bravo!" cried Henry Anderson. "Miss Linda, if you see any suitable
spot, and you think I would serve for a bug-catcher, won't you please
stake the location?"

"Well, I don't know about that," said Linda. "Would it be the old case
of 'I furnish the bread and you furnish the water'?"

"No," said Peter Morrison, "it would not. Henry is doing mighty well. I
guarantee that he would furnish a cow that would produce real cream."

"How j