matter what you're going to doif you really go away。 I can't stop
youI see that。 If you think this thing is your 'duty' you'll do it if
it kills us alland you too！ If you have to goI shall do
nothingcan do nothingbut wait till you come back to me！ Whatever
happens； darlingno matter how you faildon't ever be afraid to come
back to me。〃
He folded his arms nowdid not attempt to hold hergave her the
freedom she asked and promised her the love she had almost feared to
loseand her whole carefully constructed plan seemed like a child's
sand castle for a moment； her heroic decision the wildest folly。
He was not even looking at her； she saw his strong； clean…cut profile
dark against the moonlit house； a settled patience in its lines。 Duty！
Here was duty； surely； with tenderest happiness。 She was leaning toward
himher hand was seeking his； when she heard through the fragrant
silence a sound from her mother's roomthe faint creak of her light
rocking chair。 She could not sleepshe was sitting up with her
trouble； bearing it quietly as she had so many others。
The quiet everyday tragedy of that distasteful lifethe slow withering
away of youth and hope and ambition into a gray waste of ineffectual
submissive labornot only of her life； but of thousands upon thousands
like herit all rose up like a flood in the girl's hot young heart。
Ross had turned to herwas holding out his arms to her。 〃You won't go；
my darling！〃 he said。
〃I am going Wednesday on the 7。10；〃 said Diantha。
WHAT DIANTHA DID
CHAPTER IV。
A CRYING NEED
〃Lovest thou me？〃 said the Fair Ladye；
And the Lover he said； 〃Yea！〃
〃Then climb this treefor my sake；〃 said she；
〃And climb it every day！〃
So from dawn till dark he abrazed the bark
And wore his clothes away；
Till； 〃What has this tree to do with thee？〃
The Lover at last did say。
It was a poor dinner。 Cold in the first place； because Isabel would
wait to thoroughly wash her long artistic hands； and put on another
dress。 She hated the smell of cooking in her garments； hated it worse
on her white fingers； and now to look at the graceful erect figure； the
round throat with the silver necklace about it； the soft smooth hair；
silver…filletted； the negative beauty of the dove…colored gown；
specially designed for home evenings； one would never dream she had set
the table so welland cooked the steak so abominably。
Isabel was never a cook。 In the many servantless gaps of domestic life
in Orchardina； there was always a strained atmosphere in the Porne
household。
〃Dear；〃 said Mr。 Porne； 〃might I petition to have the steak less cooked？
I know you don't like to do it； so why not shorten the process？〃
〃I'm sorry；〃 she answered； 〃I always forget about the steak from one
time to the next。〃
〃Yet we've had it three times this week； my dear。〃
〃I thought you liked it better than anything；〃 she with marked
gentleness。 〃I'll get you other thingsoftener。〃
〃It's a shame you should have this to do； Isabel。 I never meant you
should cook for me。 Indeed I didn't dream you cared so little about
it。〃
〃And I never dreamed you cared so much about it；〃 she replied； still
with repression。 〃I'm not complaining； am I？ I'm only sorry you should
be disappointed in me。〃
〃It's not _you；_ dear girl！ You're all right！ It's just this
everlasting bother。 Can't you get _anybody_ that will stay？〃
I can't seem to get anybody on any terms； so far。 I'm going again；
to…morrow。 Cheer up； dearthe baby keeps wellthat's the main thing。〃
He sat on the rose…bowered porch and smoked while she cleared the table。
At first he had tried to help her on these occasions； but their methods
were dissimilar and she frankly told him she preferred to do it alone。
So she slipped off the silk and put on the gingham again； washed the
dishes with the labored accuracy of a trained mind doing unfamiliar
work； made the bread； redressed at last； and joined him about nine
o'clock。
〃It's too late to go anywhere； I suppose？〃 he ventured。
〃Yesand I'm too tired。 Besideswe can't leave Eddie alone。〃
〃O yesI forget。 Of course we can't。〃
His hand stole out to take hers。 〃I _am_ sorry； dear。 It's awfully
rough on you women out here。 How do they all stand it？〃
〃Most of them stand it much better than I do； Ned。 You see they don't
want to be doing anything else。〃
〃Yes。 That's the mischief of it！〃 he agreed； and she looked at him in
the clear moonlight； wondering exactly what he thought the mischief was。
〃Shall we go in and read a bit？〃 he offered； but she thought not。
〃I'm too tired； I'm afraid。 And Eddie'll wake up as soon as we begin。〃
So they sat awhile enjoying the soft silence； and the rich flower scents
about them； till Eddie did wake presently； and Isabel went upstairs。
She slept little that night； lying quite still； listening to her
husband's regular breathing so near her； and the lighter sound from the
crib。 〃I am a very happy woman；〃 she told herself resolutely； but there
was no outpouring sense of love and joy。 She knew she was happy； but by
no means felt it。 So she stared at the moon shadows and thought it
over。
She had planned the little house herself； with such love； such hope；
such tender happy care！ Not her first work； which won high praise in
the school in Paris； not the prize…winning plan for the library； now
gracing Orchardina's prettiest square； was as dear to her as this most
womanly taskthe making of a home。
It was the library success which brought her here； fresh from her
foreign studies； and Orchardina accepted with western cordiality the
youth and beauty of the young architect； though a bit surprised at first
that 〃I。 H。 Wright〃 was an Isabel。 In her further work of overseeing
the construction of that library； she had met Edgar Porne； one of the
numerous eager young real estate men of that region； who showed a
liberal enthusiasm for the general capacity of women in the professions；
and a much warmer feeling for the personal attractions of this one。
Together they chose the lot on pepper…shaded Inez Avenue； together they
watched the rising of the concrete walls and planned the garden walks
and seats； and the tiny precious pool in the far corner。 He was so
sympathetic！ so admiring！ He took as much pride in the big 〃drawing
room〃 on the third floor as she did herself。 〃Architecture is such fine
work to do at home！〃 they had both agreed。 〃Here you have your north
lightyour big tableplenty of room for work！ You will grow famouser
and famouser；〃 he had lovingly insisted。 And she had answered； 〃I fear
I shall be too contented； dear； to want to be famous。〃
That was only some year and a…half ago；but Isabel； lying there by her
sleeping husband and sleeping child； was stark awake and only by
assertion happy。 She was thinking； persistently； of dust。 She loved a
delicate cleanliness。 Her art was a precise one； her studio a workshop
of white paper and fine pointed hard pencils； her painting the
mechanical perfection of an even wash of color。 And she saw； through
the floors and walls and the darkness； the dust in the little shaded
parlortwo days' dust at least； and Orchardina is very dusty！dust in
the dining…room gathered since yesterdaythe dust in the kitchenshe
would not count time there； and the dusthere she counted it
inexorablythe dust of eight days in her great； light workroom
upstairs。 Eight days since she had found time to go up there。
Lying there； wide…eyed and motionless； she stood outside in thought and
looked at the houseas she used to look at it with him； before they
were married。 Then； it had roused every blessed hope and dream of
wedded joyit seemed a casket of uncounted treasures。 Now； in this
dreary mood； it seemed not only a mere workshop； but one of alien tasks；
continuous； impossible； like those set for the Imprisoned Princess by
bad fairies in the old tales。 In thought she entered the
well…proportioned doorthe Gate of Happinessand a musty smell greeted
hershe had forgotten to throw out those flowers！ She turned to the
parlorno； the piano keys were gritty； one had to clean them twice a
day to keep that room as she liked it。
From room to room she flitted； in her mind； trying to recall the
exquisite things they meant to her when she had planned them； and each
one now opened glaring and blank； as a place to work inand the work
undone。
〃If I were an abler woman！〃 she breathed。 And then her common sense and
common honesty made her reply to herself： 〃I am able enoughin my own
work！ Nobody can do everything。 I don't believe Edgar'd do it any
better than I do。He don't have to！and then such a wave of bitterness
rushed over her that she was afraid； and reached out one hand to touch
the cribthe other to her husband。
He awakened instantly。 〃What is it； Dear？〃 he asked。 〃Too tired to
sleep； you poor darling？ But you do love me a little； don't you？〃
〃O _yes_！〃 she answered。 〃I do。 Of _course_ I do！ I'm just tired； I
guess。 Goodnight； Sweetheart。〃
She was late in getting to sleep and late in waking。
When he finally sat down to the hurriedly spread breakfast…table； Mr。
Porne； long coffeeless； found it a bit difficult to keep his temper。
Isabel was a little stiff； bringing in dishes and cups； and paying no
attention to the sounds of wailing from above。
〃Well if you won't I will！〃 burst forth the father at last； and ran
upstairs； returning presently with a fine boy of some eleven months； who
ceased to bawl in these familiar arms； and contented himself； for the
moment； with a teaspoon。
〃Aren't you going to feed him？〃 asked Mr。 Porne； with forced patience。
〃It isn't time yet；〃 she announced wearily。 〃He has to have his bath
first。〃
〃Well；〃 with a patience evidently forced farther； 〃isn't it time to feed
me？〃
〃I'm very sorry；〃 she said。 〃The oatmeal is burned again。 You'll have
to eat cornflakes。 Andthe cream is sourthe ice didn't comeor at
least； perhaps I was out when it cameand then I forgot it。 。 。 。 。 I
had to go to the employment agency in the morning！ 。 。 。 。 I'm sorry I'm
soso incompetent。〃
〃So am I；〃 he commented drily。 〃Are there any crackers for instance？
And how about coffe