t,
in her innocence, she had realized. She was jealous, too, of his
cronies, in spite of the fact that these gentlemen, when they met her,
treated her with an elaborate politeness; and she accused him with
entire justice of being more intimate with them than with her, with whom
he was united in holy bonds. The inevitable result of these tactics
was the modern mansion in the upper part of Warren Street, known as the
"residential" district. Built on a wide lot, with a garage on one side
to the rear, with a cement driveway divided into squares, and a wall of
democratic height separating its lawn from the sidewalk, the house may
for the present be better imagined than described.

A pious chronicler of a more orthodox age would doubtless have deemed it
a judgment that Cora Ditmar survived but two years to enjoy the glories
of the Warren Street house. For a while her husband indulged in a
foolish optimism, only to learn that the habit of matrimonial blackmail,
once acquired, is not easily shed. Scarcely had he settled down to the
belief that by the gratification of her supreme desire he had achieved
comparative peace, than he began to suspect her native self-confidence
of cherishing visions of a career contemplating nothing less than the
eventual abandonment of Hampton itself as a field too limited for her
social talents and his business ability and bank account--at which
she was pleased to hint. Hampton suited Ditmar, his passion was the
Chippering Mill; and he was in process of steeling himself to resist,
whatever the costs, this preposterous plan when he was mercifully
released by death. Her intention of sending the children away to acquire
a culture and finish Hampton did not afford,--George to Silliston
Academy, Amy to a fashionable boarding school,--he had not opposed, yet
he did not take the idea with sufficient seriousness to carry it out.
The children remained at home, more or less--increasingly less--in the
charge of an elderly woman who acted as housekeeper.

Ditmar had miraculously regained his freedom. And now, when he made
trips to New York and Boston, combining business with pleasure, there
were no questions asked, no troublesome fictions to be composed.
More frequently he was in Boston, where he belonged to a large and
comfortable club, not too exacting in regard to membership, and here he
met his cronies and sometimes planned excursions with them, automobile
trips in summer to the White Mountains or choice l