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Tom.
    But no, she had her own life to live, and her father would have been just as disappointed to have had her lose the other things of life, which were only to be had if she remained near the city with its music and art and libraries and evening schools. She must have a chance.
    Now and then a feeling of a sob came in her throat. It ought not to be so hard for her. She ought to have her part of what her father had left. But she shrank inexpressibly from Tom’s look when he told her, as he surely would, that she was spoiling all his prospects in life by her silly whims, and that of course, if she wanted her half of the money it would be impossible for him to get the land he wanted, but together they could have a nice home. No, let him have the home and be satisfied. She would take her chance without the money. Then he had nothing for which to blame her.
    So she toiled on from apartment house to apartment house, in fruitless search.
    About the middle of the afternoon, and just as she was beginning to think with sinking heart that she would have to take a little hall bedroom without heat or give up her plan entirely, she came at last upon a room that seemed to have possibilities.
    It was on the third floor back in the saddest of all the sad little houses she visited, and its roof sloped at the sides.
    It had no heat, but there were two lovely dormer-windows looking toward the river, and the spring was coming on. She need not think of heat. Besides, the sad-faced woman who took lodgers said there was a pipe-hole in the chimney, and she had an old woodstove that she wouldn’t mind putting up in the winter if the young lady would bring up her own wood. Seeing as the young lady had her own furniture, and wouldn’t even require a carpet, she would let her have it very cheap.
    Marion joyfully accepted the proposition. The landlady had reluctantly agreed that she might move her things in as soon as was convenient, but the rent was not to begin until the first of the month, which was a little more than a week off.
    All the way home the girl was trying to think what would be best to do about moving her things. She knew her brother would make serious objection to her remaining in the city. He might even go so far as to refuse to let her take her things out of the house. Not that he had any right, of course, for the things were her own; but she knew he would use any method to prevent her staying if he took the whim to be obstinate about it. Marion felt she could afford to run no risks now. She must get her furniture moved at once and then keep her door locked. There was no other way.
    As soon as dinner was out of the way, she shut herself into her room and went to work. Tom had gone out again as soon as he finished his dinner, so she was not hindered by anything, and he had not thought to ask her what she had been doing all day. Her eyes were bright with excitement and unshed tears. But she had no time to cry. Tenderly and hurriedly she took down the few pictures and little ornaments and packed them into the bureau drawers with as many of her other belongings as she could get in. She packed the china washbowl and pitcher carefully, wrapping them in an old quilt, and tied newspapers about the white bed and other furniture until the room resembled a ghostly edition of itself.
    When all was done, she lay down upon the bare mattress, her head upon the tied-up pillows and her raincoat spread over her. She was not sure how she was going to sleep the rest of the nights they stayed in the house, but she was too tired to care. She meant to get her own things into her own little room before her brother and sister-in-law found out anything about it. After they were once safely out of the house, she could work with a free mind.
    She carried out her purpose the next morning, securing a wagon to take her furniture and then hurrying in the trolley car to her new quarters to receive her things and see them safely housed. The landlady had had the room