His Second Wife

s hard to remember. For tragedy entered into these rooms, and it was not easy to look back and see them clearly as they

hat earthly good will it do poor Dad to have you go about in black? You're here now and you've got to make

moods of homesick longing for the old soldier who was gone, these s

it to be seen in." And as with intent little glances she kept studying "Ethel's type" in order to set off her charms, the slightly bored expression, the look of disillusionment left Amy's pretty countenance. For Ethel's freshness had given to Amy new zest and belief in her own life, in its purpose and impo

ter on." And Joe, with a good-natured groan at the prospect

nd hats and shoes, and furs and gloves and corsets. At numberless counters they studied and counselled, and lunching at Sherry's they shopped on. And the shimmer and sheen of pretty things made life a

g a solo in a high sweet soprano voice. In a flash to Ethel's mind there came a vivid picture of the old yellow church at home. And with a queer expression looking about her at the crowds, she exclaimed, "How funny!" She was again reminded of church when one afternoon in a large darkened chamber she sat with scores of women whose eyes were fixed as thoug

wn with pencil and paper and ask, "How much did I spend today?" Her father had left her nothing but the shabby o

ttle fool. This is every pe

ning eye the women in shops and on the streets-just why they were so dashing and how they got this and tha

watching her now, Ethel reflected, "She expects me to be like that. If I'm not, she'll be disappointed, ashamed. And why shouldn't I be! What do you ever get in this world if you're always saving every cent? You miss your chan

idingly, "and a sense for rhythm that most of these women have

surance. And this feeling came again and again, in the shops and while she was seated at luncheon in some cro

tle job of it," she heard

for this she was attracting those swift admiring glances. What she would be, what she wanted to be, what she now ardently longed to become, grew clearer to her day by day. For the picture was there before her eyes. Each day it grew more familiar, as at home in Amy's room she watched her beautiful sister, a stranger no longer to her now, seated at her dress

ever be l

gh it all the same feeling was there, the

rs, discussed them long and seriously. They had spoken of marriage and divorce, of love and having children, and then had gone eagerly on to suffrage, jobs and "mental science," art, music and the rest of life. She had gathered there an image of New York as a glittering region of strong clever men and fascina

cians or painters-or actresses?" And again and again by an air of assurance Ethel tried

own. And they talk and talk and hold meetings, and they go to high-brow plays-and some women even

d again that picture of the town, all centred on what emerged from the

r had been so intense and narrowing, to gain a foothold in the town; then through rebuffs from the clever friends of Joe Lanier when she married him; and later through a feeling of lazy acceptance of her lot. But Ethel's talk and Ethel's eyes recalled what had been left behind. And Amy thought of her present friends, and again with a little uneasy pang she put off their meeting with Ethe

not what you say that interests men; i

own liking of her life, she felt the pict

t do anything about that, you have to wait for your husband. Joe's a dear, of course, and he's working hard. And he's getting it, too, he's getting it!" A gleam of hunger almost fierce came into her clear violet eyes. "I want a larger

ls, again Ethel had that feeling

Carr?" she

th kindly tolerance, for her little confession had

as a wri

rea

at. Instead she yawned complacently. "Oh, she dropped it quick enough-she thought it rather tiresome. She's one

sec

every three years.' Her second, as it happened, was no better than the first. But she was clever enough by then to ge

ensely. Her sister

y for Fanny's ideas abo

love of a home." And A

d importance of being a

leam came i

t like all the rest of us-only they are richer. That's all-but it is everything.

er face as she lo

pe ages fast in this town, if you do the things you're expected to do. But you-oh, Ethel, I want you to marry well! Not a millionaire-that's rather hard, and besides he'd probably be too fat-but the kind who will be a millionaire, who has it written all over his face and makes you feel it in his voice! Don't sell yourself too cheap, my dear! Don't go running about with men who'll keep you poor for the rest of your days. They talk so well-so

dropped the religious intensity,

ome man does it every day. You can see his name in the papers. Dozen

You've got to narrow, narrow down! You may want a lot of children. They're loves, of course, to have around. But you run a big risk in that. I could give you so many cases-mothers who have just dropped out. If you want to really

young and have what he wants-the looks, I mean-and can make him see that any number of other men would be glad to step into his shoes. But you give them only just enough to keep your husband from feeling too safe. You hold them off, you make him feel that he's everything to you if he'll work and give you what you o

remember and think it out. How new and queer and puzzling. S

he matter

y the roots, roots that went deep down into the soil of life in the t

get it. This is New York. One thing is sure," she added. "Amy needs every dollar Joe can make-and she

ard Joe. He had not counted for much at first; he had been a mere man of business; and business men

profit-or a loss, as the case might be. He dealt in the rapidly shifting values of neighbourhoods in the changing town. "The gamble in it is the fun," he remarked to Ethel one evening. Joe was just the kind of a man, as Amy had told her sister, to make a

as an old hen, and he wants it steady as a cow. He detests me, as I do him. He has stopped coming here,

day mornings he could sit for hours absorbed in the tiresome pages of real estate news in his paper. He went out for strolls in the evenings; one night he asked Ethel to come along; and his talk to her about buildings, the growth of the city by leaps and bounds, now in t

ift into other music. And though his hand would bungle and only sketch it, so to speak-in his black eyes, scowling slightly over the smoke of his cigar, would come a look which Ethel liked. But vaguely she felt that Amy did not, that

over to the piano. And they had quite a session together-till Amy suggested going out to a new cabaret she had he

ile nurse. And returning to her room she would frown and wonder for a time. But the pretty things piling in from the shops, and the gay anticipations, soon crowded such questioning out of her mind. Swiftly this household was growing more real, the rooms familiar, intimate; the day's routine with its small events were becoming parts of her

live with a

return. On one such occasion Ethel was in Amy's room. She went out when Joe came in; but a queer little gasping sigh behind gave her a start and a swift thrill, for although she did not turn around she knew they were in each other's arms. And again, late on

him she likes. When I marr

self-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 w

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,

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 imag

ever be l