sibly," J. K replied.

"You don't look horribly frightened," laughed Sue. And she wanted to
hear all the latest strike news. The time was rapidly drawing near. It
was now close to the end of March and the strike was expected in April.

When Marsh arrived about nine o'clock, there was an awkward moment. For
behind him came his wife and their small daughter, both of whom were
stiffly dressed, and with one glance at Eleanore they felt immediately
out of place. Mrs. Marsh was even more hostile and curt than when I had
seen her last. She was angry at having been dragged into this and took
little pains to hide it.

"My husband would have me come," she said. "And I couldn't leave my
little girl, so I had to bring her along." And she stopped abruptly with
a look that asked us plainly, "Now that I'm here, what do you want?"

"How old is your little girl?" Eleanore inquired.

"Six last month."

"Are you going to put her in school in New York?"

And in spite of short suspicious replies she soon had Mrs. Marsh and her
child talking of kindergartens and parks and other parts of the town
they must see. Sue was now eagerly talking to Marsh, Joe was beside her
helping her out, and both seemed wholly to have forgotten the disturbing
woman behind them. But by the quick looks that Eleanore gave them now
and then, I could see she was only holding back until she should have
Mrs. Marsh in a mood where she could be brought into the talk and made
to tell about her life.

"Don't you ever want to settle down?" she asked when there had come a
pause. Marsh turned abruptly to Eleanore.

"Of course she does," he answered. "Did you ever know a woman who
didn't, the minute that she got a kid? But my wife can't, if she sticks
to me. She has had to make up her mind to live in any old place that
comes along, from a dollar room in a cheap hotel to a shanty in a mining
camp." And his look at Eleanore seemed to add, "That's the kind she is,
you little doll."

Eleanore quickly made herself look as much like a doll as possible. She
placidly folded her dainty gloved hands.

"I should think," she murmured in ladylike tones, "Mrs. Marsh would find
that rather difficult."

"She does," said Marsh aggressively. "But my wife has nerve enough to
stand up to the rough side of life--as the wives of most workingmen
have to--in this rich and glorious land."

"Won't you tell us about it?" asked Eleanore sweetly. "I should be so
interested to hear. It's so