Mazie was getting to be very chipper of late. Whether from the force of association or not, the presence of Robert and Janet had given her a chance to recover some of her old position. Kelly appeared to agree with Mazie’s inference, though he was not so cheerful about it. He wished Mark Pryor were somewhere within reach. That fellow was a regular clairvoyant, and could tip you off about the most astonishing things. A tip would be handy at this time. "Something’s going to happen," added Harry, gloomily. "I feel it in my bones." "I’d feel it in my bones," volunteered Mazie, "if I nearly killed myself like you do, Harry. You fairly chew up work. What’s the use? Let the Empress do some of the worrying." "She’s got enough to worry about, Mazie. She carries the whole responsibility for the artistic work of the house, and you know it." "You bet I do! The chief joy of my declining days is to watch her Ladyship curl up on a cozy sofa in the office and hug the responsibility while you do the work. When the weight is too much for her, she staggers over to the house switchboard, rings up each department in turn, and interferes with everybody impartially. Say, if you could limber up her knee action a bit—" At this point, poor Harry, after an ineffectual attempt to stare Mazie into silence, got up and went out, unable to listen any longer. "The goof!" said Mazie, pitying him contemptuously. "She only married him as a sure salvation from work." She was so manifestly unjust to Cornelia (who, however much of a shirker she might have been in Kips Bay, was now busy enough making her talent for line and color productive) that Robert refrained from argument. "What’s the matter with Harry?" he said, attempting to change the subject. "He was always monosyllabic, but never as gloomy as this." "He wants a son and heir." "Oh!" "Do you remember how Cornelia used to tell every man who paid us a call in Number Fifteen that the dearest wish of her life was to hold a che-ild to her maternal heart? Every brutal Outlaw that came along would offer to oblige on the spot. Except Harry. He melted right into putty when she sprang that mother gag; and then she gave the cue for the wild wedding bells to ring out. But now she’s married, it’s different. The muffler is on the maternal urge. On tight! And she’s strong for the birth control propaganda. She’s so strong for it that—" Here Cornelia entered and Mazie was put to instant flight. *II*