“And what does she get for all this?” Mrs. Salisbury asked in a skeptical tone.

“The Joneses pay her twenty-five, I believe, and the Smiths fifteen for two in each family.”

“What’s to prevent the two families having all meals together,” Mrs. Salisbury asked, “instead of having to patch out with meals when they had no maid?”

“Well, I suppose they could.  Then she’d get her original thirty, and five more for the two extra—­you see, it comes out the same, thirty-five dollars a month.  Perhaps families will pool their expenses that way some day.  It would save buying, too, and table linen, and gas and fuel.  And it would be fun!  All at our house this month, and all at Aunt Mat’s next month!”

“There’s one serious objection to sharing a maid,” Mrs. Salisbury presently submitted; “she would tell the other family all your private business.”

“If they chose to pump her, she might,” Alexandra said, with unintentional rebuke, and Mr. Salisbury added amusedly: 

“No, no, no, Mother!  That’s an exploded theory.  How much has Justine told you of her last place?”

“But that’s no proof she wouldn’t, Kane,” Mrs. Salisbury ended the talk by rising from her chair, taking another nearer the reading lamp, and opening a new magazine.  “Justine is a sensible girl,” she added, after a moment.  “I have always said that.  When all the discussing and theorizing in the world is done, it comes down to this:  a servant in my house shall do as I say.  I have told her that I dislike this ridiculous club idea, and I expect to hear no more of the matter!”

There came a day in December when Mrs. Salisbury came home from the Forum Club in mid-afternoon.  Her face was a little pale as she entered the house, her lips tightly set.  It was a Thursday afternoon, and Justine’s kitchen was empty.  Lettuce and peeled potatoes were growing crisp in yellow bowls of ice water, breaded cutlets were in the ice chest, a custard cooled in a north window.

Mrs. Salisbury walked rapidly through the lower rooms, came back to the library, and sat down at her desk.  A fire was laid in the wide, comfortable fireplace, but she did not light it.  She sat, hatted, veiled and gloved, staring fixedly ahead of her for some moments.  Then she said aloud, in a firm but quiet voice:  “Well, this positively ends it!”

A delicate film of dust obscured the shining surface of the writing table.  Mrs. Salisbury’s mouth curved into a cold smile when she saw it; and again she spoke aloud.

“Thirty-seven dollars and fifty cents, indeed!” she said.  “Ha!”

Nearly two hours later Alexandra rushed in.  Alexandra looked her prettiest; she was wearing new furs for the first time; her face was radiantly fresh, under the sweep of her velvet hat.  She found her mother stretched comfortably on the library couch with a book.  Mrs. Salisbury smiled, and there was a certain placid triumph in her smile.