About an hour later, from behind Amy's silver coffee pot, Ethel had her
talk with Joe. She felt ill, but she bit her lips and smiled. She had
dressed her hair becomingly and had donned a blue silk waist, one of the
countless pretty things that she had bought with Amy. Her brown eyes
had a resolute brightness.

"We'll have to help each other," she said. "And there's Susette to be
thought of. The best way, I guess, is not to try to do much planning
ahead just now. But I'd like to stay here if you want me, Joe. There's
no other place where I want to be."

He gave her a grateful tired smile. His hair was a bit dishevelled, and
over his blunt kindly face had come a haggard lost expression. His
voice was low:

"Thank you, Ethel--you're a brick. I want you here at first, God knows.
Later I'll try to fix things so that you can feel more free. You're
only a kid, with a life of your own. Big city, you know, and you'll
find your place."

He stared over at the window, where the sun was streaming in.

"Another cup of coffee, Joe?"

"No, thanks." he rose slowly, and added, "Let's go now to--Amy's
desk--and fix up the housekeeping part of it."

Later he said, "I'll see the nurse and the other two maids and tell 'em
they're to take orders from you." He paused a moment. "And Ethel--if
you're to stay here, I want it to be as nearly like it was as I can." he