e got to do something! If I
don't, I'll go right out of my mind!" But what? She stared about her,
then went to the windows and threw back the curtains. It was well along
toward noon. Daylight flooded into the room, with one yellow path of
light which came down from the distant sun.

"I'll go out and get her some flowers."

When she came back a half hour later, Ethel still had that resolute
look. The door of Joe's room was still closed and she saw Nourse's hat
in the hall. She turned and went to the telephone, stopped and frowned.

"Yes, that's the next thing."

She called up Amy's friend Fanny Carr. But at the sound of the woman's
voice which came back over the wire, Ethel gave a start of dismay. For
it had a jarring quality, and although it was prompt in its exclamations
of shocked surprise and sympathy and proffers of help--the words, "You
poor child, I'll come over at once!"--made Ethel inwardly beseech her,
"Oh, no, no! Please stay away!" Aloud she said, "Thank you," put up the
receiver and stood staring at the wall. Was this Amy's best friend?

"I want some one I know!" She thought of Susette. She went at once to
the nursery, kissed the wee girl and sat down on the floor. And as they
built a house of blocks, Ethel could feel herself softening, the
strained tight sensation going. Suddenly in her hot dry eyes she felt
in a moment the tears would come.

"What's to become of me and this child?"

She turned with a start and met the unfriendly eyes of the nurse. They
had a jealous light in them.

"You'll stay here, of course," said Ethel. "Surely you are not thinking
of going--"

"No. Are you?"

A little cold sensation struck into her spine at the tone of that
question.

"I haven't decided yet on my plans. Hadn't you better take Susette out
to the Park?"

"All right."

"And keep her there as much as you can--till it's over."

"All right," said the nurse again.

Ethel went out of the room. Were there only strangers here?

Just after that Fanny Carr arrived, and Ethel had a feeling at once of a
shrewd strong personality. A woman of about medium height, still young
but rather over-developed, artificial and overdressed, with a full bust
and thick red lips and lustrous eyes of greenish grey--her beauty was of
the obtrusive type that is made to catch the eye on the street and in
noisy crowded rooms. When Fanny kissed her, Ethel shrank. "I mustn't
do that!" she exclaimed to herself. But the other woman had