"I wish you had a husband——" mused Sally.
"I'd rather have a job," Martie said with a quick, bright flush nevertheless. "But I think I know how to get one. Mrs. Cluett is going to be playing steadily now, and after this engagement they're going to try very hard to get booked in New York. She's got to have SOME ONE to look out for the children."
"But Martie——" Sally said timidly, "you'd only be a sort of servant——"
"Well, that's the only thing I know anything about," Martie answered simply. "It might lead to something——"
"Then you and Wallace aren't——?" Sally faltered. "There's nothing serious——?"
Martie could not control the colour that swept up to the white parting of her hair, but her mouth showed new firmness as she answered gravely:
"Sally—I don't know. Of course, I like him—how could I help it? We're awfully good chums; he's the best chum I ever had. But he never—well, he never asked me. Sally"—Martie rested her elbows on the table, and her chin on her hands—"Sally, would you marry him?"
"If I loved him I would," said Sally.
"Yes, but did you KNOW you loved Joe?" Martie asked. Sally was silent.
"Well—not so much—before—as after we were married," she said hesitatingly, after a pause.