of course, would live
henceforth with them. She applied for her old position at the hotel,
and after some delay secured it. This was a great relief to her, for
she would never have consented to being a burden on her sister and it
assured her a competence as long as she chose to stay.

Jimmie, much to his disgust, handed in his resignation, which was
accepted more promptly than he had secretly hoped, the flat in One
Hundred and Fortieth street was given up and the Gillies moved into
one a little less pretentious, but more in keeping with their
curtailed income. A job of some kind to keep the kettle boiling was
very necessary, so Jimmie reluctantly applied for his old job and
became once more a $14 a week shipping clerk. This however was a
temporary makeshift, he protested. He was chock full of good ideas,
and now he was rid of Stafford, who he claimed, had really paralyzed
his efforts, he would be able to give free rein to his inventive
genius. Fanny listened patiently. By this time she had few illusions
left concerning her husband's chances of success in life. All she
asked was that they should get along respectably and happily.

So the time had passed. It was now three months since Virginia had
left her husband, and in all that time she had made no attempt to
communicate with him. She had no desire to do so. If, sometimes, she
had a secret yearning, if she sometimes hoped that he would miss her
and come and fetch her back, she stifled it instantly. The very fact
that he had made no attempt to come after her, showed plainly enough
that he had never really cared for her. She thanked God that they had
had no children. At least she was spared the torture of having brought
unhappiness on innocent heads. At times she saw his name mentioned in
the newspapers, and she smiled bitterly when she read accounts of
sensational supper parties, scandalous proceedings which had attracted
the attention of the public in which he had figured prominently. That
was the kind of life he liked, the only kind he knew. How could she
ever have dreamed that he was a man who would make her a good husband?

"Mr. Brown! Mr. Robinson! Mr. Brown! Mr. Robinson!"

The monotonous, shrill voices of the pages as they wearily made their
rounds calling out the names of invisible guests, the orders of clerks
and doormen, the chattering and laughing of the people as they passed
and re-passed up and down the corridors made a perfect babel of
conflicting sou