r skirt-braid, darned your stockings and gloves, looked for
gray hairs and crows'-feet, and skimmed the magazine section, it's
Monday."

It was small wonder that Emma McChesney's leisure had been limited. In
those busy years she had not only earned the living for herself and her
boy; she had trained that boy into manhood and placed his foot on the
first rung of business success. She had transformed the T. A. Buck
Featherloom Petticoat Company from a placidly mediocre concern to a
thriving, flourishing, nationally known institution. All this might
have turned another woman's head. It only served to set Emma
McChesney's more splendidly on her shoulders. Not too splendidly,
however; for, with her marriage to her handsome business partner, T. A.
Buck, that well-set, independent head was found to fit very cozily into
the comfortable hollow formed by T. A. Buck's right arm.

"Emma," Buck had said, just before their marriage, "what is the
arrangement to be after--after----"

"Just what it is now, I suppose," Emma had replied, "except that we'll
come down to the office together."

He had regarded her thoughtfully for a long minute. Then, "Emma, for
three months after our marriage will you try being just Mrs. T. A.
Buck?"

"You mean no factory, no Featherlooms, no dictation, no business
bothers!" Her voice was a rising scale of surprise.

"Just try it for three months, with the privilege of a lifetime, if you
like it. But try it. I--I'd like to see you there when I leave, Emma.
I'd like to have you there when I come home. I suppose I sound like a
selfish Turk, but----"

"You sound like a regular husband," Emma McChesney had interrupted,
"and I love you for it. Now listen, T. A. For three whole months I'm
going to be what the yellow novels used to call a doll-wife. I'm going
to meet you at the door every night with a rose in my hair. I shall
wear pink things with lace ruffles on 'em. Don't you know that I've
been longing to do just those things for years and years? I'm going to
blossom out into a beauty. Watch me! I've never had time to study
myself. I'll hold shades of yellow and green and flesh-color up to my
face to see which brings out the right tints. I'm going to gaze at
myself through half-closed eyes to see which shade produces tawny
lights in my hair. Ever since I can remember, I've been so busy that
it has been a question of getting the best possible garments in the
least possible time for