"Yetta, Yetta," Mabel laughed and cried, with her arms about her. "Remember what a crowd of girls came up to welcome the first ones who came out? Why do you suppose they're not here to welcome you? They're back at work. We've won! We've won!" Yetta opened her big eyes very wide, but her heart was too jerky for her to speak. Over and above the joy of the dear victory was the exhilaration of friendship. It seemed as though these three friends had come down to meet and arm her for the fight for the treasure. Mabel's embrace was like armor, Mrs. Karner's kiss was a helmet, and in Longman's frank grip she felt a sword placed in her hand. "Come on," Mrs. Karner said. "Climb into the motor. You're all going to have dinner with me. You've got to speak to-night, child--the biggest audience you ever saw--Carnegie Hall. They had lots of foolish plans to bother you, but I said 'No! I'll take her in hand and see that she gets a bath and clean clothes and a good meal and a little quiet to think out her speech.' Climb in." As the car sped across the city, they explained to Yetta that Mrs. Van Cleave had donated the rent of Carnegie Hall--this before the strike had been won--and that, as all the arrangements were made, they had to have the meeting anyhow. It promised to be a big thing, as all those who were Mrs. Van Cleave's friends, or wanted to be, had scrambled for boxes, and all the two and one dollar seats had been sold. Mrs. Karner was as good as her word. Once in the imposing house on Riverside Drive, she left Longman uncomfortably balanced on a Gothic chair in the library, and she and Mabel rushed Yetta into a bath even more dazzling than that which had so impressed her in the Washington Square flat. "When any one gets herself arrested and wins a strike all by herself, and is going to make a speech to the Four Hundred, she has to let other people do things for her. So I got you some clothes." At one of the meetings of the Advisory Council Mrs. Van Cleave had said, "Of course some one must see to it that she is decently dressed." Mrs. Karner had volunteered to attend to that, and, talking it over with Mabel, who brought some of Yetta's scanty wardrobe as a model, they had arranged a simple, becoming suit of soft brown corduroy. "If you're tired, you can take a nap. We'll wake you for dinner." "No," Yetta said. "I ain't sleepy. I want to hear about the strike." So they arrayed her in the new dress and fussed around with her hair and at last brought her out into the library. For a while the four of them discussed the strike. "Yetta," Mabel asked, changing the subject abruptly, "what are you going to do now?" They had to wait several minutes before she answered.