Bob smiled gratefully. "You're a thoroughbred. I promised to let you have your way, and you shall. Even if we lose the patient it will be a dandy operation."

Beginning with the next morning Lorelei inaugurated a change in the domestic routine. Every day thereafter she and Bob took a long walk. He rebelled, of course, as soon as the novelty wore off, for he detested walking. So did she, for that matter, but she pretended to like it, and her simulated zest overcame his reluctance. They did not amble aimlessly about the streets; she led him on purposeful tramps that kept them in the open air most of the day, and, although her feet blistered until she could hardly drag herself to the theater when night came, she persisted. In time the walking grew to be a dreadful task; it took all her determination, but she would not give up.

With admirable craft she gradually won him away from the cafes, assuming delight in household duties that she was far from feeling. In reality she was a wretched cook, but she declared her intention of becoming an expert and insisted upon preparing at least two of their daily meals, at which time she saw to it that Bob ate more sweets and more salt foods than he was accustomed to. The former took the place of alcohol, the latter roused a healthy thirst, and thirsty men drink water. These were only little things; her heaviest task lay in keeping his mind occupied. At times this was easy; again the effort wore her out. Bob began to have surly spells.

For the first time in her life Lorelei really worked, and worked not for herself, but for another. Although the experience was interesting in its novelty, the result remained unsatisfactory, for not only did love fail to respond to these sacrifices, but she could see no improvement in Bob's condition. The thing she fought was impalpable, yet enormous; it was weak, yet strong; it seemed to sleep, yet it was ever awake.

Of necessity the two lived in the closest intimacy, than which nothing is ordinarily more fatal to domestic happiness. But Bob was unique; he did not tire; he began to rely upon Lorelei as a sick man leans upon his nurse, and to worship her as a man worships his sweetheart. There was more than passion in his endearments now.

But it was discouraging to the girl, who gained no strength from her penance and derived no satisfaction whatever in service for service's sake. The whole arrangement tried her patience desperately; she was weary in mind and body, and looked back with regret upon her former easy life. There was no time now for recreation—Bob had to be amused. Salary-day assumed a new importance, and she began to count the cost of every purchase.

So spring went and midsummer came. It was terribly hot in the city; the nights were breathless, the days were glaring, and this heat was especially trying to one in Bob's condition. In his periods of gaiety he showered his wife with attentions and squandered every dollar he could borrow in presents for her; in his hours of depression he was everything strange, morose, and irritable.

Without her knowledge he applied to his old firm for a salaried position and was refused. He appealed to Merkle with the same result, but succeeded in borrowing a thousand dollars, with which he bought Lorelei a set of black opals, going into debt for half the price.

CHAPTER XX

Lorelei's family continued to smart under a sense of bitter injustice, but although they kept aloof they were by no means uninterested in her experiment. On the contrary, they watched it with derisive enjoyment, predicting certain failure. After Hannibal Wharton's insult Jim was all for a prompt revenge, but he could not determine just how to use his dangerous knowledge to the best advantage. He considered the advisability of enlisting the aid of Max Melcher; but, not liking the thought of dividing the loot, he decided provisionally to engineer a separation between Bob and Lorelei.