field in which any marked advance could be made, but here again there were the same problems if not greater ones.
Mimi found a certain grim amusement in remembering the tenuous plans she had so confidently builded and which now had tumbled about her. Realizing her own weakness for the first time, comprehending that she could not make the fight alone, she wrote tentatively of her distress to her Aunt Sophie. The second day after her letter was posted there came an answer—a warmingly cordial letter—scolding Mimi because she had not called upon her aunt for aid long before, offering Mimi whatever aid she needed. From the envelope there fell a cheque of generous size. And the letter ended:
“Alone you will have little trouble, especially if you come to New York. But with the baby it will be harder—you would have to be away all day—and people, even here, do talk. I know just how you feel about it, but why don’t you put Jean in a home until you can get on your feet? I don’t urge this—I merely suggest it. Do what you think is wisest and best.”