An especially aggravating collection of romance shatterers awaited me the morning after our visit to the theatre, and my first encounter with Lillian Gale.

Dicky took a hurried breakfast and rushed off to the studio, while I spent a dreary forenoon washing the dishes and putting the apartment to rights.  I dreaded the discussion with Dicky at luncheon.  I had insisted before my marriage that I must either do most of the housework, or keep up some of my old work to add to our income.  To have a maid, while I did nothing to justify my existence save keep myself pretty and entertain Dicky, savored too much to me of the harem favorite.

A mother of small children, a woman with a large house, one who had old people to care for, or whose health was not good, was justified in having help.  But for me, well, strong, with a tiny apartment, and just Dicky, to employ a maid without myself earning at least enough to pay for the extra expense of having her—­it was simply impossible.  I had been independent too long.  The situation was galling.

The postman’s ring interrupted my thoughts.  I went to the door, receiving a number of advertisements, a letter or two for Dicky, and one, addressed in an unfamiliar handwriting, to myself.  I opened it and read it wonderingly.

  “My dear Mrs. Graham: 

“Our club is planning a course in history for the coming year.  We need an experienced conductor for the class, which will meet once a week.  Your name has been suggested to us as that of one who might be willing to take up the work.  The compensation will not be as large as that given by the larger clubs for lectures, as we are a small organization, but I do not think you will have to devote much of your time to the work outside of the weekly meeting.

  “Will you kindly let me know when I can meet you and talk this over with
  you, if you decide to consider it?

  “Yours very truly,

  “Helen Brainerd Smith,

  “Secretary Lotus Study Club,

  “215 West Washington Avenue.”

Had the solution to my problem come?  Armed with this I could talk to Dicky at luncheon without any fears.

The receipt of the letter put me in a royal good humor.  I did not care how little the compensation was, although I knew it would be far more than enough to pay the extra expense of having a maid, an expense which I was determined to defray.

Teaching or lecturing upon historical subjects was child’s play to me.  I had specialized in it, and had been counted one of the most successful instructors in that branch in the city.  Woman’s club work was new to me, but the husband of one of my friends had once conducted such a course, and I knew I could get all the information I needed from him.

I thought of Dicky’s possible objections, but brushed the thought aside.  He had objected to my going on with my regular school work and I realized that the hours which I would have been compelled to give to that work would have conflicted seriously with our home life.  But here was something that would take me away from home so little.