think Ralph ought to
just lie back and let you support the baby and me."

This time she had found the right note: she knew it by the tightening of
her father's slack muscles and the sudden straightening of his back.

"By George, he pretty near does!" he exclaimed bringing down his fist
on the desk. "They haven't been taking it out of you about that, have
they?" "They don't fight fair enough to say so. They just egg him on to
turn against me. They only consented to his marrying me because they
thought you were so crazy about the match you'd give us everything, and
he'd have nothing to do but sit at home and write books."

Mr. Spragg emitted a derisive groan. "From what I hear of the amount of
business he's doing I guess he could keep the Poet's Corner going right
along. I suppose the old man was right--he hasn't got it in him to make
money."

"Of course not; he wasn't brought up to it, and in his heart of hearts
he's ashamed of having to do it. He told me it was killing a little more
of him every day."

"Do they back him up in that kind of talk?"

"They back him up in everything. Their ideas are all different from
ours. They look down on us--can't you see that? Can't you guess how they
treat me from the way they've acted to you and mother?"

He met this with a puzzled stare. "The way they've acted to me and
mother? Why, we never so much as set eyes on them."

"That's just what I mean! I don't believe they've even called on mother
this year, have they? Last year they just left their cards without
asking. And why do you suppose they never invite you to dine? In their
set lots of people older than you and mother dine every night of the
winter--society's full of them. The Marvells are ashamed to have you
meet their friends: that's the reason. They're ashamed to have it known
that Ralph married an Apex girl, and that you and mother haven't always
had your own servants and carriages; and Ralph's ashamed of it too, now
he's got over being crazy about me. If he was free I believe he'd turn
round to-morrow and marry that Ray girl his mother's saving up for him."

Mr. Spragg listened with a heavy brow and pushed-out lip. His daughter's
outburst seemed at last to have roused him to a faint resentment. After
she had ceased to speak he remained silent, twisting an inky penhandle
between his fingers; then he said: "I guess mother and I can worry along
without having Ralph's relatives drop in; but I'd like to make it clear
t