Lucy was a hard worker and a good cook and because of those traits she and Sheila had gotten along most of the time. Her greatest exploit was the howling before the mid-day meal. She spent a very disagreeable afternoon and evening—it was raining fast outside, and she had very unwisely left her soundest pair of boots in the boothole of her father’s house in Morningside Park—thinking over the economic situation and planning a course of action. “That’s not. He delayed the blow till the fortunate conjuncture was past. Cool and sunny, it seemed that God himself smiled upon that day, the sunbeams streaming through the magnificent arches dustily as the priest murmured in soporific Latin. “Oh, but life is difficult!” she groaned. “It is Rhea’s infant.
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