lly hurried to her closet to pick out her prettiest
house frock.

Long before dinner Billy was ready, waiting in the drawing-room. She had
on a pretty little blue silk gown that she knew Bertram liked, and she
watched very anxiously for Bertram to come up the steps. She remembered
now, with a pang, that he had long since given up his peculiar ring; but
she meant to meet him at the door just the same.

Bertram, however, did not come. At a quarter before six he telephoned
that he had met some friends, and would dine at the club.

"My, my, how pretty we are!" exclaimed Uncle William, when they went
down to dinner together. "New frock?"

"Why, no, Uncle William," laughed Billy, a little tremulously. "You've
seen it dozens of times!"

"Have I?" murmured the man. "I don't seem to remember it. Too bad
Bertram isn't here to see you. Somehow, you look unusually pretty
to-night."

And Billy's heart ached anew.

Billy spent the evening practicing--softly, to be sure, so as not to
wake Baby--but _practicing_.

As the days passed Billy discovered that it was much easier to say she
would "change things" than it was really to change them. She changed
herself, it is true--her clothes, her habits, her words, and her
thoughts; but it was more difficult to change Bertram. In the first
place, he was there so little. She was dismayed when she saw how very
little, indeed, he was at home--and she did not like to ask him outright
to stay. That was not in accordance with her plans. Besides, the "Talk
to Young Wives" said that indirect influence was much to be preferred,
always, to direct persuasion--which last, indeed, usually failed to
produce results.

So Billy "dressed up," and practiced, and talked (of anything but the
baby), and even hinted shamelessly once or twice that she would like to
go to the theater; but all to little avail. True, Bertram brightened
up, for a minute, when he came home and found her in a new or a favorite
dress, and he told her how pretty she looked. He appeared to like to
have her play to him, too, even declaring once or twice that it was
quite like old times, yes, it was. But he never noticed her hints about
the theater, and he did not seem to like to talk about his work, even a
little bit.

Billy laid this last fact to his injured arm. She decided that he had
become blue and discouraged, and that he needed cheering up, especially
about his work; so she determinedly and systematically set herself to
d