And, quite unconsciously, she was giving by piecemeal an answer to that fundamental question of her Modern critics, How do you spend your time? A considerable part of Miss Angela's time went, it seemed, to the actual care of the house. With her leisure she really had little to do as yet, because of her lack of acquaintance. Even the table of bridge with Cousin Mary had not developed so far. She walked a great deal, usually alone, but mentioned having met Mr. Manford the other day; the impression was left that she and Donald hadn't specially taken to each other. She kept her mother company; she often went into the shops, "just looking"; once or twice she and Wallie had been to the moving-picture shows. She read also, it seemed, for she had just finished "Marna"--a gift to her, this was--a certain late New Woman novel which Charles himself meant to give an hour to some day. Her account of her domestic business the old-fashioned girl concluded thus:-- "I don't know very much about housekeeping yet, but I do the best I can. I think mother enjoys the rest." And whatever criticism narrow utilitarians might have brought against her management of her fifteen hours a day seemed to be morally destroyed by that unconscious stroke. _Mother enjoys the rest._ Imagine Miss Hodger, for instance,--to come no nearer home,--casually mentioning: "I don't want to do this, but I will. I want to go there, but I won't." "Why, Miss Hodger?" you would ask her. "Why must you mutilate your Ego thus?" "Well,"--you are to fancy Miss Hodger saying,--"you see, I think mother'd enjoy the rest!" But the girl herself remained delightfully unconscious of the reactions she set in motion. "Mr. Garrott," she said suddenly,--"I hope you don't mind my asking, but--when are you going to have some stories coming out? I'm crazy to read one of them!" "Oh!" laughed Mr. Garrott. "Well!--I can't say definitely, at the moment. I'm trying," he said, modestly, "to write books, you know, and it's a slow business, with the little free time I have. My first one, that I've just finished, took me four years." "Four years! How wonderful! But isn't it going to come out soon?" "I'm--ah--negotiating with a publisher now." "It must be fascinating! I--I never knew an author before." He warmed, expanding. At the parting of their ways, these two paused, talking like old friends; and no parting took place here, after all. Angela said, with a charming hesitancy: "Mr. Garrott, if you really want to read that book,--'Marna', I mean,--I wish you'd let me lend it to you. We've finished with it--for good!--and if you have time to stop a minute--" And he, who never called, who had a special rule against borrowing things from ladies, restored his hat to his head at once, accepting with pleasure. So they turned out of Washington Street toward Center, and she continued, with a laughing, sidelong glance:--