semblance of cheerfulness, for a letter from Mr. Jocelyn informed
them that he was making very little headway, and that some agencies
which he accepted yielded but a scanty income. Mildred chafed more
bitterly than ever over her position of idle waiting, and even grew
irritable under it. More than once Roger heard her speak to Belle
and the children with a sharpness and impatience which proved
her not angelic. This did not greatly disturb him, for he neither
"wanted to be an angel" nor wished to have much to do with
uncomfortable perfection. A human, spirited girl was quite to his
taste, and he was quick-witted enough to see that unrest and anxiety
were the causes of her temper. Poor Mrs. Jocelyn was too gentle for
irritation, and only grew more despondent than ever at hope deferred.

"Millie," she said, "I have dreadful forebodings, and can never
forgive myself that I did not think night and day how to save instead
of how to spend. What should we do if we had no money at all?"

"Belle and I must go to work," said Mildred, with a resolute face,
"and it's a shame we are not at work now."

"What can you do when your father can do so little?"

"Other poor people live; so can we. I can't stand this wretched
waiting and separation much longer," and she wrote as much to her
father. In the hope of obtaining a response favorable to her wishes
she became more cheerful. Every day increased her resolution to
put an end to their suspense, and to accept their lot with such
fortitude as they could command.

One morning she found Mr. and Mrs. Atwood preparing to go to the