“She had a bad time for twenty-four hours--no, about twelve hours. And for that the whole town sits back and gasps with pity, because it’s Cecily--Cecily who’s been used to ‘everything.’ What got on my nerves was to see what all women had to suffer. But I don’t see that Cecily hasn’t got it so much easier than most people that she doesn’t need my pity or any one else’s. Nurses and doctors and silk quilts and embroidered layettes take a good deal of sting out of having babies, I should think. And Dick acting as if he ought to grovel in the earth because his wife presented him with a baby! I dropped in to see May Robinson on the way here to-day. She’s expecting another and doing her own housework. And her husband is on the road and only gets home for week ends. May isn’t being so darn coddled. She’s worried sick about how they’re going to afford the new one. I can’t say that I’m especially sorry for Cecily.” Ellen gave the dressing table a last flourishing polish and took refuge in her usual philosophy. “Well, that’s how things are,” she said. “Some people have more than others. But that’s no reason why you can’t be sorry for a pretty young girl like Mrs. Harrison having a thing like that happen when she’s miles away from home and help and all.” “She had me,” grinned Fliss, and went on with a brief recital of what she and Mrs. Olson had done. Ellen listened with interest, although with some embarrassment. “It was certainly fine of you, Fliss.” “Fine nothing. It was the luckiest thing that ever came my way.” Ellen looked her question. “Don’t you see how solid it makes me with the Harrisons? It gives me a real connection. Cecily never will forget a single thing that happened, and among other things she probably won’t forget that I was the first person to hold her baby. Yes--the greatest luck I ever had, for there’s more than that to it. Matthew Allenby knows I’m on earth at last. Of course, it’s Cecily he’s gone on, but because he thinks I was useful for once--especially to the angelic Cecily--he actually noticed me as if I were more than a mechanical toy. And he’s quite a person, Ellen!” Ellen did not answer and Fliss began to wander around the room looking at things. She opened Cecily’s wardrobe and pushed dress after dress along the sliding rod in envious review. “Lord, what it must be to be rich,” she sighed, “what fun--what fun!” “Come,” said Ellen, “come out in the kitchen and I’ll fix you a bit of lunch. You need it,” she added sagely. “You’re always sort of longing when you’re hungry.” Fliss laughed and caught her cousin around the waist, waltzing her about ecstatically. “You old darling--wait till I am rich and see what I’ll do for you.” “Look out--Mrs. Harrison’s rugs,” cautioned Ellen. CHAPTER XI