ccepted it with characteristic courage and made it a home. She had hoped for something irregular,

separated from a narrow bedroom by closed folding doors, a narrow, long hall passing a dark little bathroom and the tiny da

s of nude figures, with ugly legends underneath. The chairs were of every period ever sacrificed to flimsy reproduction: gilt, Mission, Louis XIV, Pembroke, and old English oak. There were curtains, tassels, fringes, and portieres everywhere, of cotton brocade, velours, stencilled burlap, and "art" materials generally. There was a Turkish corner, with a canopy, daggers, crescents, and cu

. She promised herself that she would store some of these horrors, but inasmuch as there was not a spare inch in the flat for stora

to feel so abysmal-so overwhelming an indifference toward the man whose name she bore. Wallace, weary with the moving, his collar off, his thick neck bare, his big pale face streaked with drying perspiration, was her husband after all. She was an

ent by. She was a married woman now, protected and busy; she must not dream like a romantic girl. There was delightfully novel cooking to do; there was freedom from

of failure; he did not even now habitually neglect his work, nor habitually drink. It was merely that his engagement was much less distinguished than he had told her it was, his part was smaller, his pay smaller, and his chances of promotion lessening with every year. He had never been a student of life, nor inter

was steady and his hours comfortable until after the new year. Then the run ended, a

s about New York, she had some difficulty in making him attend rehearsals, and take his part seriously. His fri

mmertime, ever. Martie remarked, with a half-sorry laugh, that a salary of one hundred dollars a week for ten weeks was less t

rry!" Wal

ust as it came, go to Texas or Canada with you, work up parts myself!" she would answer eagerly. She wanted to be a good wife to him, to giv

s, the eggs "en cocotte" and "suzette." He wanted thick broiled steak, and fried potatoes, and coffee, and nothing else. He slept late in the mornings, comi

hatter. She would sit opposite him, watching the ham and

ou feel,

. My head i

d! More

the kid bangin

or the time it took me to snatch

t." He would yawn. "

d smoking so much, Wallace?"

othing to d

how do you k

e I do

d scattered garments. But usually Wallace did not bathe until after his breakfast, and nothing could be done until that was over. Equally, Martie's affairs kitchenward were delayed; sometimes Wallace's rolls were stil

f hours and meals for his own amusement. Or he and Martie went alone to a matinee. But when he was playing in vaudeville, even if he lived at home, he must be at t

enty-five. She drank in the passing panorama of the streets: the dripping "L" stations, the light of the chestnut dealer, a blowing flame in the cold and dark, the dirty powder of snow blowing along icy sidewalks, and the newspapers weighted down at corner stands wit

tered eagerly over his rice and milk. Martie had a sandwich and coffee, watching the shabby fingers that fumbled for five-cent tips, the anxiou

y tucked away for the night, she would dream over a half-sensed book. Why make the bed she was so soon to get into? Why wash the d

e more distinguished members of his company he hardly knew; the others were semi-successful men like himself, women too poor and too busy to waste time or money, or other women of a more or less recognized looseness of morals. Martie detested them, their cologne, their boasting, their insinuations

ut she liked to watch her husband's hands, and during this winter he attributed his phenomenal good luck to her. He never lost, and he always parted generously with such sums as he won. He loved his luck; the envious comments of th

ned and rasped above their heads, the air grew close and heavy with smoke. Ash-trays were loaded with the stumps and ashes of cigars; sticky beer glasses ringed the bare table. But Marti

me, Wallie. I have the

want, old girl. You'

sometimes even Teddy's claims were neglected. She was sleepy, tired, heavy all the time. "When I see a spoon lying

ame, poor

She would blink back th

athy, resented the doctor's advice to rest, not to worry, his

who had taken a fancy to Adele, agreed lazily to endure John's company, which he did not en

tly. "I won't have my w

lad! And they'll come out and help cook it. You don

ormally now. It would be different

a couple of servants. Aren't we ev

ve them thinking that we're hard up. I'll take them to a res

gnificent restaurant where a dollar-an

ow them to a real d

re than enough to eat, and music, and a talk. Then we can b

they waited. Martie fairly bubbled in her joy at the chance to speak of books and poems, ideals and reforms again. She told hi

on the strange mouth, but no corre

ned for his cold and fatigue, and they were quickly escorted to a table near the fountain, and supplied with cockt

obsequiously. The table-d'hote dinne

ies had surrendered their wraps, envious late-comers were eying their table. Still Martie did not hesitate. S

ly. But Wallace demurred. What was

roved to be abou

his wife at breakfast the next day. "Twenty-six dollars

ou didn't have

that boob had had the sense to know

the night before her anger began to smoulder. Wallace had deliberately urged the ordering of wine, John quite as innocently disclaimed it. Adele

is paper, her husband finished the subject sharply. "I want to tell you right now, Mart, that with me ordering the dinner, it was

d not speak of the Drydens again for a long while. Her own condition engrossed h

buses, hours in the parks. Spring in the West was cold, erratic; spring here came with what a heavenly wash of fragrance and heat! It was like

identially together, his little body jolting against hers on the jolting omnibus, or leaning against her knees as she sat in the Park. She lingered in the lonely evening over the ceremony of his bath, his undressing, his prayers, and the romping that was always the last thing. For his sake, her love went out to meet the newcomer; another

r son, a spoiled idler of forty, inherited the business. He wanted to know if Mrs. Bannister could c

, was loitering on the shady steps of the houses opposite, conscious of clean clothes, and of a holiday mood. The street was empty; a hurdy-gurdy unseen poured forth a brassy

found seats in the train, and were rush

oth'?" he a

of squalor and pain was all about her; she could not understand, she could not help, she could not even lift

into bed, and made the strong coffee for which he longed. After drinking it, he gave her a resentful, painstaking a

ys. 'My stuff is my stuff,' I says, 'but this is something else again.' 'Wallie,' he says, 'that may be right, too. But listen,'

e watched him in something far beyond scorn or sham

t?" he asked presently. Sh

I suppose,

he day died on a long, gasping twilight. Martie let Teddy go to the candy store for ten cents' worth of ice cream for his supper. She made herse

her a thin, dark gown, loose and cool. He carried Teddy off for whole afternoons, leaving Martie to doze, read, and rest; and learning that she still had a bank account of something more than three hundred dollars-left from poker games and from her old bank account-she engaged a stupid, good-natu

nt flashes toward the west, and faint rumblings that predicted the coming storm. In an hour or two the streets would be awash, and white hats and flimsy gowns flying toward shelter; me

. Expense, pain, weakness, helplessness; she dreaded them all. She dreaded the doctor, the hospital, the brisk, indifferent nurses; she hated above all the puzzled realization that all this cost to her was so wasted; Wallace was not sorry for the child's comin

a moment her lips quivered. She struggled hal

he doorway. She looked up to

hful eyes, stirred her heart with keen longing; she needed friendship,

citement, studying her with a wistful and puzzled smile. She did not realize

ll me everything; how a

owning, Indiana, was visiting them. Things were much the same at

at his spars

to any lectures lately? What ha

about when we saw each other," he said, laughing exc

ie. She was as comfortable with John as she might have been with Sally, as sure of his affection and inter

on with your w

his hair again-"

y to talk. Aren't

" he grinn

w do you ever expect to get out of th

smile, "what's the use? I suppose there isn't a furniture cl

e said, in disappointment and reproach. John

's T

ast, and drew a short, stifled breath. "

by anything so trivial as mere heat or cold. He was fin

ourse!" he confessed. "But it

" she said, wi

e office," John add

t it is: you

d

would make

eek dimpled, she

't rem

and's 'Queens.' You said that this

notted her brows. "Mary-Mary Isa

ce," he corr

does it work u

in

have you d

not m

his pocket. But he was presently garrulous, sketching his plan to her, reading a passage here and there, firing her with his own interest and delight. He had as little thought of b

s," she said finally. "But i

at his face, she saw that its thoughtful look was almost st

e her again, she again

John?" she as

id, with a brief

ade you

ull minute there was silence in the room. Then he looked up at h

g for her to say. She could hardly believe that he knew what he implied, or that she construed the words aright. He was so different from all other men

I would be a clerk in a furniture house,

And presently she added: "I did not think that I

then with a

the deuce?

r!" Martie sa

r an order we were filling-I was there only a few hours. I found a little old white house, on a river bank, with big trees over it. It was on a f

?" Martie as

there and talked

d Martie, a

ould be to live there, and write, and walk about that little farm! Funny, isn't it? Eighteen hundred dollars

red, laughing, but a littl

D manages thi

alk like a hig

is chair. "Well, I have to go!" He looked at her keenly. "But you don't loo

that he did not know? "I am expecting something very precious here one of these days," she said. He looked at her with

and the blood rise. He looked at her stea

ow?" Martie pu

se-" he said at random. "Of course-a baby!" He walked across the room to look at a picture on the wall. "That's rather-pretty!" he said in a suffocating voice. Suddenly he came back, and sat close beside her; his

t they were tears of exquisite jo

dear, there'

e?" he aske

m ever so glad and proud abou

ocked: her face was radian

rniture clerking, you know, an

it d

ded in spite of it, I mea

ORN rich and successful,"

and Napoleon!" Ma

down at the

Lincoln may have had to split rails for his supper-what DO you split

Martie offered, on

nces for! But anyway, being poor or rich doesn't seem to matter hal

d send me books!" she u

hed him, expecting some parting word. But he did not even turn to smile a farewell. He let himsel

re drawing in their clothes-lines with a great creaking and rattling, and the first rush of warm, sullen drops

room with an eerie splendour, thunder clapped and rolled; died aw

air swept in, she dropped her tired head against the chair's cushion, and drif

the next morning, a strange, sweet emotion at her heart. The beautiful, odd handwr

to him unconcernedly: she had told him of John's call. "He

way, perhaps he has,"

, and sent her love to Uncle John. Adele immediately sent baby roses and a card to say that she was dying to see the baby, and woul