Mrs. O'Brien blinked her eyes. "Has some one been offering you that kind of a position?" Her tears ceased to flow. Once again she beamed on Ellen with all her old-time pride. "Ah, Ellen, you rogue, you're keeping something back! Come, tell me what's happened!" Ellen sighed helplessly. "Ma, I'm trying to tell you, but you make it awful hard for me. You go off every minute and don't give me a chance to finish." Mrs. O'Brien folded her hands complacently. "Ellen dear, I won't utter another syllable--I promise you I won't. Now tell me in two words what's happened." "Well, Ma, it's this: I'm through with stenography and I'm going in for millinery, which I think I can do better." "But where, Ellen, where are you going in for it? That's the great p'int!" "I'm going to try Hattie Graydon's aunt first. She always says that not one of the girls in her shop begins to have the taste that I've got, and one time she told me if ever I wanted a job to come to her." The happy look in Mrs. O'Brien's face slowly faded. Tears again filled her eyes. "And is that all you've got to tell me?" "Yes, Ma, that's all. I'm going down to see Miss Graydon this morning." "Oh, Ellen, Ellen, to think of your doing a thing like that without asking the advice of a soul! You're a foolish, headstrong girl!" Ellen dropped her eyes. "George Riley thinks I'm doing right." Mrs. O'Brien looked up sharply. "Jarge Riley indeed! And may I ask what Jarge Riley's got to with it?" "George and me are friends again. I thought I better tell you." In Mrs. O'Brien amazement took the place of grief. "Ellen O'Brien, do you mean to tell me that you've took up with Jarge Riley when you might have had a gentleman like Mr. Hawes?" The flush that her mother's words excited was one of anger as well as embarrassment. "Ma, you listen to me: I've never once told you that I might have Mr. Hawes! You've made that up yourself!" "Made it up myself, indeed! when he's been taking you out night after night and treating you like a real lady!" "And what's more," Ellen went on vehemently, "George Riley's worth twenty Philip Hawses!" Mrs. O'Brien looked at her sharply. "Is it that you're going to marry Jarge Riley?" Ellen, breathing hard, made answer a little unsteadily: "Yes." Mrs. O'Brien dropped back limply into her chair. "Mercy on us!" she wailed, "and is this the end of your fine looks and your fine education--to marry a farmer like Jarge Riley! Why, you could have had him without any business college or nothing!" Ellen stood up and Mrs. O'Brien, her face woe-begone and tragic, made one last appeal: "Ellen O'Brien, I ask you in all seriousness, are you determined to throw yourself away like that?" Ellen was nothing if not determined. "I'm going down to Miss Graydon's now," she said in a casual tone which ended all discussion; "and me and George will probably get married in the spring." CHAPTER XXXVI THE HAPPY LOVER