about
it at all."

"I haven't?"

"No. Your father and I didn't discuss it before you children. All you
ever heard was when he'd get in such a rage, after we'd been speaking of
it, that he couldn't control himself when you came in. Wasn't _I_ always
quiet? Did _I_ ever go on talking about it?"

"No; perhaps not. But you're talking about it now, mama, after you
promised never to mention it again."

"I promised not to mention it to your father," said Mrs. Adams, gently.
"I haven't mentioned it to him, have I?"

"Ah, but if you mention it to me I'm afraid you WILL mention it to him.
You always do speak of things that you have on your mind, and you
might get papa all stirred up again about--" Alice paused, a light of
divination flickering in her eyes. "Oh!" she cried. "I SEE!"

"What do you see?"

"You HAVE been at him about it!"

"Not one single word!"

"No!" Alice cried. "Not a WORD, but that's what you've meant all along!
You haven't spoken the words to him, but all this urging him to change,
to 'find something better to go into'--it's all been about nothing on
earth but your foolish old glue factory that you know upsets him, and
you gave your solemn word never to speak to him about again! You didn't
say it, but you meant it--and he KNOWS that's what you meant! Oh, mama!"

Mrs. Adams, with her hands still automatically at work in the flooded
dishpan, turned to face her daughter. "Alice," she said, tremulously,
"what do I ask for myself?"

"What?"

"I say, What do I ask for myself? Do you suppose _I_ want anything?
Don't you know I'd be perfectly content on your father's present income
if I were the only person to be considered? What do I care about any
pleasure for myself? I'd be willing never to have a maid again; _I_
don't mind doing the work. If we didn't have any children I'd be glad to
do your father's cooking and the housework and the washing and ironing,
too, for the rest of my life. I wouldn't care. I'm a poor cook and a
poor housekeeper; I don't do anything well; but it would be good enough
for just him and me. I wouldn't ever utter one word of com----"

"Oh, goodness!" Alice lamented. "What IS it all about?"

"It's about this," said Mrs. Adams, swallowing. "You and Walter are a
new generation and you ought to have the same as the rest of the new
generation get. Poor Walter--asking you to go to the movies and a
Chinese restaurant: the best he had to offer! Don't you suppose _I_ see
how the poo