ways contrived to leave them their independence and
self-respect. Naturally all this was gratifying and vital to Lynda.
Achievement was dear to her temperament, and the successes of others,
especially those nearest to her, were more precious to her than her own.
She saw Truedale drop his old hesitating, bewildered manner like a
discarded mantle. She grew to rely upon his calm strength that developed
with the demands made upon it. She approved of him so! And that
realization brought out the best in her.

One November evening she and Con were sitting in the library, Truedale
at his desk, Lynda idly and luxuriously rocking to and fro, her hands
clasped over her head. She had learned, at last, the joy of absolute
relaxation.

"There's a big snow-storm setting in," she said, smiling softly. Then,
apropos of nothing: "Con, we've been married four years and over!"

"Only that, Lyn? It seems to me like my whole life."

"Oh, Con--so long as that?"

"Blessedly long."

After another pause Lynda spoke merrily: "Con, I want some of Uncle
William's money. A lot of it."

Truedale tossed her a new check book. "Now that you see there is no
string tied to it," he said, "may I ask what for? Just sympathetic
interest, you know."

"Of course. Well, it's this way. Betty and I are broke. It's fine for
you to make roads and build schools and equip the youth of America for
getting all the learning they can carry, but Betty and I are after the
babies. We've been agonizing over the Saxe Home--Betty's on the
Board--and before Christmas we are going to undress all those poor
standardized infants and start their cropped hair to growing."

Truedale laughed heartily. "Intimacy with Betty," he said, "has coloured
your descriptive powers, Lyn, dear."

"Oh, all happy women talk one tongue."

"And you _are_ happy, Lyn?"

"Happy? Yes--happy, Con!"

They smiled at each other across the broad table.

"Betty has told the superintendent that if there is a blue stripe or a
cropped head on December twenty-fourth, she's going to recommend the
dismissal of the present staff."

"Good Lord! Does any one ever take Betty seriously? I should think one
of those board meetings would bear a strong family resemblance to an
afternoon tea--rather a frivolous one."

"They don't. And, honestly, people are tremendously afraid of Betty. She
makes them laugh, but they know she gets what she wants--and with a
joke she drives her truths home."

"There's somet