trying hardest to do. The other things--the parties and
making money and dressing better than we can really afford to--they're
only all right if they don't get to seeming the things to look out for
first. We must find out how to keep them second."

A golden shaft of winter sunshine fell on Paul's face. He opened his
eyes and yawned, smiling good-naturedly at his wife. Lydia summoned her
courage and fairly ran to the bed, sitting down by him and taking his
strong hand in hers.

"Oh, you india-rubber ball!" he cried in humorous despair at her. "Don't
you know a woman with your expectations oughtn't to go hurling herself
around that way?"

"I know--I'm too eager always," she apologized. "But, Paul, I've been
waiting for a nice quiet time to have a long talk with you about
something that's troubling me, and I just decided I wouldn't wait
another minute."

Paul patted her cheek. He was feeling very much refreshed by his night's
sleep. He smiled at his young wife again. "Why, fire away, Lydia dear.
I'm no ogre. You don't have to wait till I'm in a good temper, do you?
What is it? More money?"

"Oh, no, _no_!" She repudiated the idea so hotly that he laughed, "Well,
you can't scare me with anything else. What's up?"

Lydia hesitated, distracted, now that her chance had come, with the
desire to speak clearly. "Paul dear, it's very serious, and I want you
to take it seriously. It may take a great effort to change things, too.
I'm very unhappy about the way we are--"

A wail from Ariadne's room gave warning that the child had wakened, as
she not infrequently did, terrified by a bad dream. Lydia fled in to
comfort her, and later, when she came back, leading the droll little
figure in its pink sleeping-drawers, Paul was dressing with his usual
careful haste. He stopped an instant to laugh at Ariadne's face of
determined woe and tossed her up until an unwilling smile broke through
her pouting gloom. Then he turned to Lydia, as to another child, and
rubbed his cheek on hers with a boyish gesture. "Now, you other little
forlornity, what's the matter with you?"

Lydia warmed, as always, at the tenderness of his tone, though she
noticed with an inward laugh that he continued buttoning his vest as he
caressed her and that his eyes wandered to the clock with a wary
alertness. "Perhaps you'd better wait and tell me at the table," he went
on briskly. "I'm all ready to go down." He pulled his coat on with his
astonishing quickness,