r　had　a　maid　did　she　comprehend。　　To　a　woman　who　has　never　had　a　maid；　or　who　has　taken　on　a　maid　as　a　luxury；　it　will　seem　an　exaggeration　to　say　that　Mildred　felt　as　helpless　as　a　baby　lying　alone　in　a　crib　before　it　has　learned　to　crawl。　　Yet　that　is　rather　an　understatement　of　her　plight。　　The　maid　left　in　the　afternoon。　Mildred；　not　without　inconveniences　that　had　in　the　novelty　their　amusing　side；　contrived　to　dress　that　evening　for　dinner　and　to　get　to　bed；　but　when　she　awakened　in　the　morning　and　was　ready　to　dress；　the　loss　of　Therese　became　a　tragedy。　　It　took　the　girl　nearly　four　hours　to　get　herself　together　presentablyand　then；　never　had　she　looked　so　unkempt。　　With　her　hair；　thick　and　soft；　she　could　do　nothing。
  ‘‘What　a　wonderful　person　Therese　was！''　thought　she。　　‘‘And　I　always　regarded　her　as　rather　stupid。''　Her　mother；　who　had　not　had　a　maid　until　she　was　about　thirty　and　had　never　become　completely　dependent；　fared　somewhat　better；　though；　hearing　her　moans；　you　would　have　thought　she　was　faring　worse。
  Mildred's　unhappiness　increased　from　day　to　day；　as　her　wardrobe　fell　into　confusion　and　disrepair。　　She　felt　that　she　must　rise　to　the　situation；　must　teach　herself；　must　save　herself　from　impending　dowdiness　and　slovenliness。　　But　her　brain　seemed　to　be　paralyzed。　She　did　not　know　how　or　where　to　begin　to　learn。　　She　often　in　secret　gave　way　to　the　futility　of　tears。
  There　were　now　only　a　cook　and　one　housemaid　and　a　man　of　all　workall　three　newcomers；　for　Presbury　insistedmost　wiselythat　none　of　the　servants　of　the　luxurious；　wasteful　days　would　be　useful　in　the　new　circumstances。　　He　was　one　of　those　small；　orderly　men　who　have　a　genius　for　just　such　situations　as　the　one　he　now　proceeded　to　grapple　with　and　solve。　　In　his　pleasure　at　managing　everything　about　that　house；　in　distributing　the　work　among　the　three　servants；　in　marketing；　and；　in　inspecting　purchases　and　nosing　into　the　garbage…barrel；　in　looking　for　dust　on　picture…　frames　and　table…tops　and　for　neglected　weeds　in　the　garden　walksin　this　multitude　of　engrossing　delights　he　forgot　his　anger　over　the　trick　that　had　been　played　upon　him。　　He　still　fought　with　his　wife　and　denounced　her　and　met　insult　with　insult。　　But　that；　too；　was　one　of　his　pleasures。　　Also；　he　felt　that　on　the　whole　he　had　done　well　in　marrying。　　He　had　been　lonely　as　a　bachelor；　had　had　no　one　to　talk　with；　or　to　quarrel　with；　nothing　to　do。　　The　marriage　was　not　so　expensive；　as　his　wife　had　brought　him　a　houseand　it　such　a　one　as　he　had　always　regarded　as　the　apogee　of　elegance。　　Living　was　not　dear　in　Hanging　Rock；　if　one　understood　managing　and　gave　time　to　it。　　And　socially　he　was　at　last　established。
  Soon　his　wife　was　about　as　contented　as　she　had　ever　been　in　her　life。　　She　hated　and　despised　her　husband；　but　quarreling　with　him　and　railing　against　him　gave　her　occupation　and　aimtwo　valuable　assets　toward　happiness　that　she　had　theretofore　lacked。　　Her　living　shelter；　food；　clothing　enoughwas　now　secure。　But　the　most　important　factor　of　all　in　her　content　was　the　one　apparently　too　trivial　to　be　worthy　of　record。　From　girlhood　she　could　not　recall　a　single　day　in　which　she　had　not　suffered　from　her　feet。　　And　she　had　been　ashamed　to　say　anything　about　ithad　never　let　anyone；　even　her　maid；　see　her　feet；　which　were　about　the　only　unsightly　part　of　her。　　None　had　guessed　the　cause　of　her　chronic　ill…temper　until　Presbury；　that　genius　for　the　little；　said　within　a　week　of　their　marriage：
  ‘‘You　talk　and　act　like　a　woman　with　chronic　corns。''
  He　did　not　dream　of　the　effect　this　chance　thrust　had　upon　his　wife。　　For　the　first　time　he　had　really　‘‘landed。''　　She　concealed　her　fright　and　her　shame　as　best　she　could　and　went　on　quarreling　more　viciously　than　ever。　　But　he　presently　returned　to　the　attack。　Said　he：
  ‘‘Your　feet　hurt　you。　　I'm　sure　they　do。　　Now　that　I　think　of　it；　you　walk　that　way。''
  ‘‘I　suppose　I　deserve　my　fate；''　said　she。　　‘‘When　a　woman　marries　beneath　her　she　must　expect　insult　and　low　conversation。''
  ‘‘You　must　cure　your　feet；''　said　he。　　‘‘I'll　not　live　in　the　house　with　a　person　who　is　made　fiendish　by　corns。　I　think　it's　only　corns。　　I　see　no　signs　of　bunions。''
  ‘‘You　brute！''　cried　his　wife；　rushing　from　the　room。
  But　when　they　met　again；　he　at　once　resumed　the　subject；　telling　her　just　how　she　could　cure　herselfand　he　kept　on　telling　her；　she　apparently　ignoring　but　secretly　acting　on　his　advice。　　He　knew　what　he　was　about；　and　her　feet　grew　better；　grew　welland　she　was　happier　than　she　had　been　since　girlhood　when　she　began　ruining　her　feet　with　tight　shoes。
  Six　months　after　the　marriage；　Presbury　and　his　wife　were　getting　on　about　as　comfortably　as　it　is　given　to　average　humanity　to　get　on　in　this　world　of　incessant　struggle　between　uncomfortable　man　and　his　uncomfortable　environment。　　But　Mildred　had　become　more　and　more　unhappy。　　Her　mother；　sometimes　angrily；　again　reproachfullyand　that　was　far　harder　to　bear　blamed　her　for　‘‘my　miserable　marriage　to　this　low；　quarrelsome　brute。''　　Presbury　let　no　day　pass　without　telling　her　openly　that　she　was　a　beggar　living　off　him；　that　she　would　better　marry　soon　or　he　would　take　drastic　steps　to　release　himself　of　the　burden。　　When　he　attacked　her　before　her　mother；　there　was　a　violent　quarrel　from　which　Mildred　fled　to　hide　in　her　room　or　in　the　remotest　part　of　the　garden。　　When　he　hunted　her　out　to　insult　her　alone；　she　sat　or　stood　with　eyes　down　and　face　ghastly　pale；　mute；　quivering。　　She　did　not　inter…　rupt；　did　not　try　to　escape。　　She　was　like　the　chained　and　spiritless　dog　that　crouches　and　takes　the　shower　of　blows　from　its　cruel　master。
  Where　could　she　go？　　Nowhere。　　What　could　she　do？　　Nothing。　　In　the　days　of　prosperity　she　had　regarded　herself　as　proud　and　high　spirited。　　She　now　wondered　at　herself！　　What　had　become　of　the　pride？　What　of　the　spirit？　　She　avoided　looking　at　her　image　in　the　glassthat　thin；　pallid　face；　those　circled　eyes；　the　drawn；　sick　expression　about　the　mouth　and　nose。　‘‘I'm　stunned；''　she　said　to　herself。　　‘‘I've　been　stunned　ever　since　father's　death。　　I've　never　recoverednor　has　mother。''　　And　she　gave　way　to　tearsfor　her　father；　she　fancied；　in　fact；　from　shame　at　her　weakness　and　helplessness。　　She　thoughthopedthat　she　would　not　be　thus　feeble　and　cowardly；　if　she　were　not　living　at　home；　in　the　house　she　loved；　the　house　where　she　had　spent　her　whole　life。　　And　such　a　house！　　Comfort　and　luxury　and　taste；　every　room；　every　corner　of　the　grounds；　full　of　the　tenderest　and　most　beautiful　associations。　　Also；　there　was　her　position　in　Hanging　Rock。　　Everywhere　else　she　would　be　a　stranger　and　would　have　either　no　position　at　all　or　one　worse　than　that　of　the　utter　outsider。　　There；　she　was　of　the　few　looked　up　to　by　the　whole　community。　　No　one　knew；　or　even　suspected；　how　she　was　degraded　by　her　step…　father。　　Before　the　world　he　was　courteous　and　considerate　toward　her　as　toward　everybody。　　Indeed；　Presbury's　natural　instincts　were　gentle　and　kindly。　　His　hatred　of　Mildred　and　his　passion　for　humiliating　her　were　the　result　of　his　conviction　that　he　had　been　tricked　into　the　marriage　and　his　inability　to　gratify　his　resentment　upon　his　wife。　　He　could　not　make　the　mother　suffer；　but　he　could　make　the　daughter　sufferand　he　did。　　Besides；　she　was　of　no　use　to　him　and　would　presently　be　an　expense。
  ‘‘Your　money　will　soon　be　gone；''　he　said　to　her。　‘‘If　you　paid　your　just　share　of　the　expenses　it　would　be　gone　now。　　When　it　is　gone；　what　will　you　do？''
  She　was　silent。
  ‘‘Your　mother　has　written　to　your　brother　about　you。''
  Mildred　lifted　her　head；　a　gleam　of　her　former　spirit　in　her　eyes。　　Then　she　remembered；　and　bent　her　gaze　upon　the　ground。
  ‘‘But　he；　like　the　cur　that　he　is；　answered　through　a　secretary　that　he　wished　to　have　nothing　to　do　with　either　of　you。''
  Mildred　guessed　that　Frank　had　made　the　marriage　an　excuse。
  ‘‘Surely　some　of　your　relatives　will　do　something　for　you。　　I　have　my　hands　full；　supporting　your　mother。　I　don't　propose　to　have　two　strapping；　worthless　women　hanging　from　my　neck。''
  She　bent　her　head　lower；　and　remained　silent。
  ‘‘I　warn　you　to　bestir　yourself；''　he　went　on。　　‘‘I　give　you　four　months。　　After　the　first　of　the　year　you　can't　stay　here　unless　you　pay　your　shareyour　third。''
  No　answer。
  ‘‘You　hear　what　I　say；　miss？''　he　demanded。
  ‘‘Yes；''　replied　she。
  ‘‘If　you　had　any　sense　you　wouldn't　wait　until　your　last　cent　was　gone。　　You'd　go　to　New　York　now　and　get　something　to　do。''
  ‘‘What？''　she　askedall　she　could　trust　herself　to　speak。
  ‘‘How　should　_I_　know？''　retorted　he　furiously。　‘‘you　are　a　stranger　to　me。　　You've　been　educated；　I　assume。　　Surely　there's　something　you　can　do。　　You've　been　out　six　years　now；　and　have　had　no　success；　for　you're　neither　married　nor　engaged。　　You　can't　call　it　success　to　be　flattered　and　sought　by　people　who　wanted　invitations　to　this　house　when　it　was　a　social　center。''
  He　paused　for　response　from　her。　　None　came。
  ‘‘You　admit　you　are　a　failure？''　he　said　sharply。
  ‘‘Yes；''　said　she。
  ‘‘You　must　have　realized　it　several　years　ago；''　he　went　on。　　‘‘Instead　of　allowing　your　mother　to　keep　on　wasting　money　in　entertaining　lavi