By day he worked hard, and since his expenses had been increased by Flavia's coming, he had undertaken more work for more pay. He still performed all the routine labor of a managing editor, and he now wrote the literary notices of the Events, and sometimes, especially if there was anything new, the dramatic criticisms; he brought to the latter task all the freshness of a man who, till the year before, had not been half a dozen times inside a theatre. He attributed the fat on his ribs to the tivoli; perhaps it was also owing in some degree to a good conscience, which is a much easier thing to keep than people imagine. At any rate, he now led a tranquil, industrious, and regular life, and a life which suited him so well that he was reluctant to interrupt it by the visit to Equity, which he and Marcia had talked of in the early spring. He put it off from time to time, and one day when she was pressing him to fix some date for it he said, “Why can't you go, Marcia?” “Alone?” she faltered. “Well, no; take the baby, of course. And I'll run down for a day or two when I get a chance.” Marcia seemed in these days to be schooling herself against the impulses that once brought on her quarrels with Bartley. “A day or two--” she began, and then stopped and added gravely, “I thought you said you were going to have several weeks' vacation.” “Oh, don't tell me what I _said_!” cried Bartley. “That was before I undertook this extra work, or before I knew what a grind it was going to be. Equity is a good deal of a dose for me, any way. It's all well enough for you, and I guess the change from Boston will do you good, and do the baby good, but _I_ shouldn't look forward to three weeks in Equity with unmitigated hilarity.” “I know it will be stupid for you. But you need the rest. And the Hallecks are going to be at North Conway, and they said they would come over,” urged Marcia. “I know we should have a good time.” Bartley grinned. “Is that your idea of a good time, Marsh? Three weeks of Equity, relieved by a visit from such heavy weights as Ben Halleck and his sisters? Not any in mine, thank you.” “How can you--how _dare_ you speak of them so!” cried Marcia lightening upon him. “Such good friends of yours--such good people--” Her voice shook with indignation and wounded feeling.