When they were gone, there fell a silence which was like a sudden pall. "He can break it! I--won't!" she decided viciously. He had gone to their room, she had followed him there, and he was not having an easy time. He washed and dressed without a word. But at last he came to her.
"Look here." His arm was about her, she jerked away, but he would not release her.
"You're the most adorable little wife that ever made a man happy," he said. "But you're young, you know--"
"No, it's something those other women would all give their eye-teeth for."
"But you're human, you know, and you've got to grow older--and as you do you'll find, my dear, that it takes all kinds to make a world."
"And if you are to get any friends, you've got to get out and meet all kinds--many you don't like at all--and then little by little take your choice." He paused, and although he did not add, "After all, they're Amy's friends, and you might at least give 'em a chance"--Ethel knew he was thinking that, though he only ended gently, "But I guess I'll leave it all to you. Do as you like. I'll be satisfied."
"He won't be, though," she told herself. She knew he would be distinctly annoyed if she did not enter in. "No, I've simply got to be nice to them. There's no keeping them away!"
And in this she was right. Flowers and gifts for the baby came, and several more women friends; and one of them brought her husband. Nearly always they stayed until Joe came home; and in his manner, with dismay, she saw the hold they were getting. It was not only flattery they used, they appealed to his loyalty to his first wife. "Don't drop us now," they seemed to say. "We were your friends when you were poor--when she was poor. If she had lived, just think how welcome we should be."
Early one evening when Ethel and Joe were dressing for dinner, Emily Giles came in with a long box of roses. Ethel thought they were for herself.
"No," said Emily, "they're for your husband."
"For me?" Joe laughed. "There's some mistake."
"No--there's no mistake," said Ethel, in a low unnatural voice. In an instant she had grown cold. What a fool, to have forgotten that this was Amy's birthday! Inside the box was Fanny's card and on it she had written, "In memory of the many times I helped you buy a birthday gift."