e said, "and you can put it into plays.
I'd like to pay you something definite for doing it, because I don't see
how you're going to live."

"Lydia'll help me do it," said Jeff, "she and Anne. They're curiously
wise about plays and dances. No, Amabel, I sha'n't eat your money,
except what you pay me for evening school. And I have an idea I'm going
to get on. I always had the devil's own luck about things, you know.
Look at the luck of getting you to fork out for plays you've never heard
the mention of. And I feel terrible loquacious. I think I shall write
things. I think folks'll take 'em. They've got to. I want to hand over a
little more to Esther."

Even to her he had never mentioned the practical side of Esther's life.
Miss Amabel looked at him sympathetically, inquiringly.

"Yes," he said, "she's having a devil of a time. I want to ease it up
somehow--send her abroad or let her get a divorce or something."

"You couldn't--" said Amabel. She stopped.

His brows were black as thunder.

"No," said he, "no. Esther and I are as far apart as--" he paused for a
simile. Then he smiled at her. "No," he said. "It wouldn't do."

As he went out he stopped a moment more and smiled at her with the
deprecating air of asking for indulgence that was his charm when he was
good. His eyes were the soft bright blue of happy seas.

"Amabel," said he, "I don't want to cry for mercy, though I'd rather
have mercy from you than 'most anybody. Blame me if you've got to, but
don't make any mistake about me. I'm not good and I'm not all bad. I'm
nothing but a confusion inside. I've got to pitch in and do the best
thing I know. I'm an undiscovered country."

"You're no mystery to me," she said. "You're a good boy, Jeff."

He went straight home and called Lydia and Anne to council, the colonel
sitting by, looking over his glasses in a benevolent way.

"I've been trying to undermine Weedie," said Jeff, "with Amabel. I can't
quite do it, but I've got her to promise me some of her money. For
plays, Lydia, played by Mill End. What do you say?"

"She hasn't money enough for real plays," said Lydia. "All she's got
wouldn't last a minute."

"Not in a hall?" asked Jeff. "Not with scenery just sketched in, as it
were? But all of it patriotic. Teach them something. Ram it down their
throats. English language."

Lydia made a few remarks, and Jeff sat up and stared at her. The colonel
and Anne, endorsing her, were not surprised. They had hear