the sisters came home and
found Joe at work with a tired anxious look on his face, his wife came
up behind him. And the picture of her small gloved hand upon Joe's
heavy shoulder remained in Ethel's memory. It seemed so soft and yet so
strong.

"She can do anything with him she likes. When I marry somebody how will
it be?"

Upon the living-room mantel was a photograph of Amy. And on the smooth
and pretty face with the lips slightly parting, and in the smiling
violet eyes, there was the expression of something which Ethel did not
quite name to herself--for she had forgotten the night long ago in her
high-school club when they had sturdily tackled the word "sensual" and
what it meant. But the picture grew familiar and real, filled in by the
living presence here of this woman who so carefully tended her beautiful
body, her glossy hair, her cheeks and lips; this sister with so many
moods, now intent and watchful, now good-humoured, indolent, now
expectant, hungry, now smilingly content and gay.

And as the picture grew more real, warm and close and thrilling, it
symbolized for Ethel that mysterious force which she could feel on every
side, driving the throngs of humanity--in this city where so many things
she had once deemed important were fading rapidly away. That hungry
hope of a singer's career, that craving for work and self-education,
trips to Paris, London, Rome, books, art and clever people, "salons,"
brilliant discussions of life; and deeper still, those mysterious dreams
about having children and making a home--all began to drop behind, so
quietly and easily that she barely noticed the change.

For this was happening in a few weeks, in the first whirl and excitement
of those dazzling streets and shops, those models, gowns, hats, gloves
and shoes. "It's not what you say that interests men--it's how you look
and what you have on." The image of her sister grew vivid in Ethel's
eager mind. And with it came the question, now ardent though still a
little confused:

"Shall I ever be like that?"

CHAPTER IV

Ethel had been about four weeks in town, and now she was to meet Amy's
friends. Amy was giving a dinner the next evening in her honour; and to
let the cook and the waitress have a rest on the preceding night, Joe
took Amy and Ethel out to dine in a cafe. His business had gone well
that week and Joe was a genial husband. They had a sea-food supper and
later he took them to a play. When they came home, Ethe