s had grown a little strained. He had stayed at the
office more often at night. Very well, let him sulk in his masculine
way. Only one remark of his had annoyed her. Like the woman in the
employment bureau, he had warned Ethel against men.

"When it comes to looks," he had ended, "you're one in a thousand. And
in this town--"

"Oh, Joe, for goodness sake hush up!" she had cried. A bright spot of
colour had come in each cheek and her strong little mouth had set
viciously. "You'll be telling me next that I got my position simply on
my pretty face! No brains behind it, of course, no mind!" And she had
tapped one foot on the floor in a way which made him look at her in a
curious manner, startled and admiring.

"Oh, no, I won't," he had told her meekly. "You've got the makings of
more real mind than any girl I've ever seen."

"Thank you," she had snapped at him, but she had liked him nevertheless.
So long as one had to live with a man, even as his sister-in-law, it was
well to have him in his place.

So her annoyance had died down, and had only risen a little again when
one day Joe came to her office. There was some excuse, of course, but
his real reason obviously was to have a look at her employer and at the
same time show the man that she had a male protector. Booh! . . .
But Joe had smiled at Greesheimer and had withdrawn quite reassured,
leaving her and her job in peace.

As Ethel's business life went on, her self-confidence grew apace. And
now that she had proved to herself that she had brains behind her face,
she dropped her air of severity and even began to enjoy the glances
which she knew were cast her way, on the streets and in the office.
Even on old Greesheimer, when he was in one of his genial moods, she
would bestow a winning smile. It was good to have both brains and face.
She looked at the city with challenging eyes, a self-supporting woman.

And this state of mind might have lasted some time, had it not happened
that one sunny day toward the end of April Greesheimer opened a letter
with eager trembling fingers, read it swiftly and glared with joy, his
big glistening eyes nearly leaving their sockets. Then he whirled
around in his chair, and as his eye lit on Ethel, he laughed, and in a
harsh queer voice he cried, "Vell? Now you see? I'm rich alreatty, I'm
vell off! I got the Zimmerman contract--see! I can do vot I like! I
got it! I got it!" He capered in triumphant glee, laughing again and
seizing her