n of certain tendencies
and capacities within herself. Yet she rejoiced in them, she was glad
she had hurt Ditmar, she would hurt him again. Still palpitating, she
reached the house in Fillmore Street, halting a moment with her hand on
the door, knowing her face was flushed, anxious lest her mother or Lise
might notice something unusual in her manner. But, when she had slowly
mounted the stairs and lighted the gas in the bedroom the sight of her
sister's clothes cast over the chairs was proof that Lise had already
donned her evening finery and departed. The room was filled with
the stale smell of clothes, which Janet detested. She flung open the
windows. She took off her hat and swiftly tidied herself, yet the relief
she felt at Lise's absence was modified by a sudden, vehement protest
against sordidness. Why should she not live by herself amidst clean and
tidy surroundings? She had begun to earn enough, and somehow a vista
had been opened up--a vista whose end she could not see, alluring,
enticing.... In the dining-room, by the cleared table, her father was
reading the Banner; her mother appeared in the kitchen door.

"What in the world happened to you, Janet?" she exclaimed.

"Nothing," said Janet. "Mr. Ditmar asked me to stay--that was all. He'd
been away."

"I was worried, I was going to make your father go down to the mill.
I've saved you some supper."

"I don't want much," Janet told her, "I'm not hungry."

"I guess you have to work too hard in that new place," said Hannah, as
she brought in the filled plate from the oven.

"Well, it seems to agree with her, mother," declared Edward, who could
always be counted on to say the wrong thing with the best of intentions.
"I never saw her looking as well--why, I swan, she's getting real
pretty!"

Hannah darted at him a glance, but restrained herself, and Janet
reddened as she tried to eat the beans placed before her. The pork had
browned and hardened at the edges, the gravy had spread, a crust covered
the potatoes. When her father resumed his reading of the Banner and
her mother went back into the kitchen she began to speculate rather
resentfully and yet excitedly why it was that this adventure with a man,
with Ditmar, made her look better, feel better,--more alive. She was too
honest to disguise from herself that it was an adventure, a high one,
fraught with all sorts of possibilities, dangers, and delights. Her
promotion had been merely incidental. Both her mot