rows was straightened, as she mused somberly over
her future course.

There fell an interval of silence, in which the two reflected on the
mysteries that lie between man and woman in the way of love. It was
broken finally by Mrs. Delancy, who spoke meditatively, hardly conscious
that the words were uttered aloud.

"Of course, you're not really dependent on Charles. Your own fortune--"

The girl's interruption came in a passionate outburst that filled her
hearer with distress and surprise. It would seem that Cicily had been
thinking very tenderly, yet very unhappily, of those mysteries of love.

"But I am dependent on him--dependent on him for every ray of sunshine
in my heart, for every breath of happiness in my life; while he--" her
voice broke suddenly; it came muffled as she continued
quiveringly--"while he--he's not dependent on me at all!" After a little
interval, she went on, more firmly, but with the voice of despair.
"That's the pity of it. That's what makes us women nowadays turn to
something else--to some other man, or to some work, some fad, some
hobby, some folly, some madness--anything to fill the void in our hearts
that our husbands forget to fill, because their whole attention is
concentrated on business.... But I'm not going to be that wife, I give
you warning. I'm going to make my husband fill all my heart, and, too,
I'm going to make him dependent on me. I'll make him know that he can't
do without me!"

"Nonsense!" Mrs. Delancy objected, incredulously. "Why, as to that,
Charles is dependent on you now. You haven't really lost his love--not a
bit of it, my dear!"

There was infinite sadness in the young wife's gesture of negation.

"Aunt Emma," she said earnestly, "Charles and I haven't had an evening
together in weeks. We haven't had a real old talk in months.... Why,
I--I doubt if he even remembers what day this is!"

"You mean--?"

"Our first anniversary! Long ago, we planned to celebrate the day--just
the theater and a little supper after--only us two.... I wonder if he
will remember." The tremulous voice gave evidence that the tears were
very near.

"Oh, of course, he will," Mrs. Delancy declared briskly, with a manner
of cheerful certainty. Nevertheless, out of the years of experience in
the world of married folk, a great doubt lurked in her heart.

Cicily's head with the coronal of dark brown hair, usually poised so
proudly, now drooped dejectedly; there was no hopefulness in her ton