"I'm not silly," said Lise. "I'm sick of that job at the
Bagatelle"--sob--"there's nothing in it--I'm going to quit--I wish to
God I was dead! Standing on your feet all day till you're wore out for
six dollars a week--what's there in it?"--sob--"With that guy Walters
who walks the floor never lettin' up on you. He come up to me yesterday
and says, 'I didn't know you was near sighted, Miss Bumpus' just because
there was a customer Annie Hatch was too lazy to wait on"--sob--"That's
his line of dope--thinks he's sarcastic--and he's sweet on Annie.
Tomorrow I'm going to tell him to go to hell. I'm through I'm sick of
it, I tell you"--sob--"I'd rather be dead than slave like that for six
dollars."

"Where are you going?" asked Janet.

"I don't know--I don't care. What's the difference? any place'd be
better than this." For awhile she continued to cry on a ridiculously
high, though subdued, whining note, her breath catching at intervals. A
feeling of helplessness, of utter desolation crept over Janet; powerless
to comfort herself, how could she comfort her sister? She glanced around
the familiar, sordid room, at the magazine pages against the faded
wall-paper, at the littered bureau and the littered bed, over which
Lise's clothes were flung. It was hot and close even now, in summer
it would be stifling. Suddenly a flash of sympathy revealed to her a
glimpse of the truth that Lise, too, after her own nature, sought beauty
and freedom! Never did she come as near comprehending Lise as in such
moments as this, and when, on dark winter mornings, her sister clung to
her, terrified by the siren. Lise was a child, and the thought that she,
Janet, was powerless to change her was a part of the tragic tenderness.
What would become of Lise? And what would become of her, Janet?... So
she clung, desperately, to her sister's hand until at last Lise roused
herself, her hair awry, her face puckered and wet with tears and
perspiration.

"I can't stand it any more--I've just got to go away anywhere," she
said, and the cry found an echo in Janet's heart....

But the next morning Lise went back to the Bagatelle, and Janet to the
mill....

The fact that Lise's love affairs had not been prospering undoubtedly
had something to do with the fit of depression into which she had fallen
that evening. A month or so before she had acquired another beau. It
was understood by Lise's friends and Lise's family, though not by the
gentleman himself, that h