women were more likely to make with one another
twenty years ago than now.

Milly's spirits revived quickly, and she left the Kemps buoyant. It
seemed easier than she had expected to "get something to do." She kissed
Eleanor Kemp with genuine gratitude.

"You've always been the kindest, dearest thing to me, Nelly."

"I'm very fond of you, dear, and always shall be."

"I know--and you were my first real friend."

Milly had a pleasant sense of returning to old ideals and ties in thus
drawing near once more to the Kemps, whom latterly she had found a
trifle dull.... Leaving the house, she bumped into old Mrs. Jonas
Haggenash, one of the Kemps' neighbors. The Haggenashes had made their
way in lumber and were among the most considered of the older,
unfashionable people in the city. Mrs. H. had a reputation as a wit, of
the kind that "has her say" under any and all circumstances. Latterly
she had rather taken up Milly Ridge, who fished in many pools.

"So you and your young man had a falling out, Milly," Mrs. Haggenash
rasped nasally.

"Our engagement has been broken," Milly acknowledged with dignity.

"That's a pity. It ain't every day a poor girl can marry a millionaire.
They don't grow on every bush."

"When I marry, it will be some one I can respect and love too."

The old lady smiled dubiously at the pretty sentiment.

"Most women want to. But they've got to be fed and clothed first."

She looked at Milly's smart walking costume and smiled again. Milly
always managed to have a becoming street dress and hat, even in her
poorest days, and lately she had let herself out, as the pile of
unopened bills on her dressing-table would show.

"I expect to eat and dress," Milly retorted, and trotted off with a
curse near her lips for Mrs. Jonas Haggenash and all her tribe.

* * * * *

The way home took Milly near the office of the tea and coffee business,
and she thought to surprise her father and give him the good news of
Mrs. Kemp's offer. She would also get him to walk home with her. Horatio
had been very doleful of late and she wished to cheer him up. She had
not visited the office for many months, but its outward appearance was
much the same as it had been that first time when she had visited it
with her father. The sign had become dingy, was almost undecipherable,
as if it had anticipated the end of its usefulness. The same dreary
little cart for "city deliveries" stood before t