companionship. She, too, had been fond of music, art and literature,
and she was filled with ambition to make a name for herself. One day
she met John Blaine, then a young law student. It was a case of love
at first sight. They did not stop to consider ways and means. They got
married, and to-day, after thirty years of loving companionship, her
only regret was that she could not die before him. John had been a
loyal friend, a faithful companion, both in fair weather and foul, and
now their life's journey together had come to an abrupt end. It was
too dreadful to think of. It seemed to her that all these happenings
of the last few days--this sudden sickness, the coming of the trained
nurse, Dr. Everett's grave demeanor--was a hideous dream from which
she would soon awake.

Their situation was, indeed, desperate. It had taken practically all
John's income to live respectably. Living expenses were high and rents
exorbitant. What made matters worse, there was practically no life
insurance. John had intended taking out more, but it had been
neglected. After the funeral and other expenses what would be left of
the paltry $2,000? They would have to find a cheaper apartment. The
girls--she herself--would have to find work of some kind. It would be
terribly hard on the girls. Not only they lost a loving, devoted
father, but at an age when a nice home, and comfortable surroundings
meant everything in ensuring their future, they would find themselves
penniless and forced to go out into a cold, unsympathetic world to
earn their living. Fanny, she knew, would not mind. She was fond of
work and had no artistic aspirations; but the blow would fall heavily
on poor Virginia, who had set her heart on going to high school.

"Why are you so silent, mother dear?" asked Virginia suddenly. "Of
what are you thinking?"