ittle
bitterly.

CHAPTER III

But Eleanore had good reason. When at last the house had been closed,
back at home one evening she told me what she had known for weeks but
had kept to herself until I should be free from other things. We were to
have another child.

The news was a shock, it frightened me. "Where's the money to come
from?" flashed into my mind. In an instant it had passed and I was
holding her tight in my arms. But she must have caught that look in my
face, for I could feel her trembling.

"The same funny old world, my dearest one," she whispered, "with its
same old trick of starting out. But oh my dear, in spite of it all--or
because of it all--how good it is to be alive! More than ever--a hundred
times!"

"You darling girl," I whispered back, "you're the bravest one of all!"

* * * * *

Her father came to us the next night, and after Eleanore went to bed he
and I talked long together. He looked worn and tired, but the same quiet
affection was in his eyes.

"Let's see where we are," he said, "and what we've got to go on. To
begin with, thank God, you and I are still friends. Then there's
Eleanore and your small son and the smaller one that's coming. We're
just starting in on a long, hot summer. She must of course be got out of
town. How much have you in the bank?"

"Thirty-seven dollars," I said.

He looked thoughtfully at his cigar.

"You've never yet taken money from me," he continued, after a moment.
"Still, you'd do it if you had to--because this is _our_ affair. But
unluckily, just at present, I'm nearly as high and dry as yourself. The
men who have backed my harbor work have lost so heavily in the strike
that they feel now they must recoup. I've already proposed to them a
plan which they have as good as accepted. They'll provide enough money
to pay the rent of a smaller office. I can borrow enough to pay half my
men. The rest I'll have to let go for a time."

"And _your_ salary?" I ventured.

"Is left out," he answered. "I mean it is if I stay here. I want to stay
here, I want to put through this job if I can, you see it has taken six
years of my life. And besides," he added wistfully, "in a very few weeks
they'll finish the work at Panama--and the ships of the world will begin
to crowd into a harbor that isn't ready here--we haven't even completed
our plans. It's not a good time to stop our work. But of course if you
and Eleanore get into a ho