ow Mr. Rann says woollen socks don't look well in the
evening--and he takes cold every time he goes out at night. He won't
even let me put red flannel in the soles of his shoes."

"Then he's not the man I thought him," said Eugenia as she rose. "Do you
know, the baby is so pretty I stopped her carriage. If she were mine I
shouldn't let her grow up."

Mrs. Rann glowed with pride, and in the depths of her shallow eyes
Eugenia read a triumphant compassion. This little vulgar countrywoman,
upon whom she looked so grandly down, was pitying her in her narrow
heart.

She flushed and turned away.

"You have never had a child?" asked the little common voice.

Eugenia faced her coldly. "I lost one--a week old," she replied, and she
hated herself that she was proud of her seven days' motherhood. She had
mourned the loss, but she had never vaunted the possession until now.

As she left the house her name was called by Juliet Galt from her window
across the way. "Come over, Eugie," she cried. "We've been watching
you," and as Eugenia ascended the steps the door was opened and she was
clasped in Emma Carr's arms. "We've shut our eyes and ground our teeth
and put ourselves in your place," she said. "Oh, Eugie, she's worse than
the dentist!"

"I went to the dentist's first," was Eugenia's reply.

She followed Miss Carr into the drawing-room and sank into the
window-seat beside Juliet, who was bending over her embroidery frame.
Then she laughed--a full, frank laugh.

"You dear women," she said, "if you knew the lot of a politician's wife,
you'd--marry a footman."

"Provided he were Dudley Webb," returned Emma Carr. She seized Eugenia's
hand and they smiled at each other in demonstrative intimacy. "You
know, of course, that we are all in love with your husband--desperately,
darkly in love--and you ought to be gray with jealousy. If I were
married to the handsomest man in Virginia I'd get me to a nunnery."

"That's not Eugie's way," said Juliet, snapping off her silk. "If she
went, she'd drag him after."

"Oh, he's just Dudley," protested Eugenia. "I'd as soon be jealous of
Aunt Chris--and he's waiting at home this instant with his senators come
to judgment on my dinner. If I were free, I'd spend the day with you.
Juliet, but I've married into servitude."

IX

When Eugenia went upstairs that night she softly opened Lottie's door
and glanced into the room. By the sinking firelight she saw Lottie lying
asleep, her