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 room with Ma since Jimmy was born. She says if he had, he might be alive to-day."

So Herman was head of the factory now and he was worried. The new fashions had cut down the sale of corsets, and corsets made of rubber were putting into the discard those built upon the synthetic whalebone which old Samuel Barr had invented. Business wasn't so good. Perhaps the fashions would change. Perhaps they would put in a rubber corset department. Ellen was fresh from Paris. Did she think there was any chance of small waists coming in again?

"Of course," said May, with an echo of the old giggle, "women with my figure will always have to wear whalebone. Rubber is no good for me. And then just now, I have to wear my corsets loose. . . ." She sighed. "If only I had a figure like yours." And she swept Ellen's straight gray clad figure with an appraising and envious glance.

"And your grandfather is still alive?" asked May in astonishment. "Why, he was an old man when you left. He must be nearly ninety now."

"He's ninety-one and very spry," said Ellen. "He goes out to walk alone in the city. He hasn't changed at all."

"Well, well," echoed May, and there rose an awkward pause which neither of them seemed able to break. Now that they had gone quickly through the past there seemed to be nothing of which to speak. The sound of the black dog's howling came distantly into the little parlor. It was Merton, the third child, who saved the situation. May cried, "Merton, how many times have I told you not to touch things. Take your hand right out of that goldfish bowl. . . . Here, come here now and wipe it on Momma's handkerchief."

While this was being done Ellen reflected, a bit grimly, that perhaps it was just as well that she could not lunch with May. If the conversation had grown sterile in half an hour, how could one hope that it could be spread over an hour? Sabine, perhaps, had been right, when she had said once that it was a bad sign