It made her sad. She was not of this world. She could never be like Mabel. Her instinctive common sense showed her the great gulf which separated her from the life of her new friends. In an uncertain way she was beginning to form a conception of Beauty and the graciousness of luxury. Eleanor's gown, her daffodils, the way she stood when she played the violin, all suggested to Yetta an idea of personal adornment much more intricate than her former ideal of a hat and white shoes. The dinner had shown her that eating might be something more than the mere satisfying of hunger. Mabel had changed her street clothes for a dinner gown. Evidently she thought of clothing as something more than necessary covering. Even the room where she was sitting was more than a place to sleep. All this "moreness"--this surplus over necessity--this luxury, was what separated her life from this new world. It did not seem possible that she could ever cross that chasm. The reverse of the proposition came to her with equal force. Could Mabel cross? Could she really become a part of the world of work, the world of less? It seemed just as improbable. Yetta felt lonely and out of place. An inevitable wave of resentment came over her against these two favored women. Was not all this beauty and easy grace--this luxury--what she and her kind, Rachel and the other girls, were starving for? She felt herself in the enemy's country. There was a light knock on her door, and Mabel, wrapped in her dressing-gown, came in. "Oh, you're up already," she smiled. All of Yetta's hostility melted before her frank greeting and morning kiss. Eleanor, it seemed, never got up before nine, so they must be quiet. In a few minutes Mabel reappeared in her street clothes, and closing the dining-room door, so as not to disturb the sleeper, they had their breakfast. This meal, even more than the dinner, amazed Yetta. There were coffee and rich cream and eggs and toast and marmalade. She had known, of course, that people dine in state, but that any one ever drank his morning coffee leisurely had never occurred to her. As Mabel read the newspaper, Yetta had much time to think, and once more the feeling of hostility returned. For more than an hour now her people had been bent over the life-destroying machines, and Mabel sipped her coffee slowly and read the news. Yetta wanted to be up and doing. But once out on the street she was amazed and humbled at the sight of Mabel's efficiency. Yetta would not have known what to do first. Mabel had the whole day's work planned out.