ly to you? Don't throw
away all the future, dear. Not to-day--not to-morrow, perhaps, but some
time, when you can, forgive him! He's changed; he's not what he used to
be--"

Tears were in Julia's eyes now; she slipped to her knees beside Mrs.
Toland's chair, and they cried a little together.

"I came to see him," whispered Julia. "Where is he?"

"He came in about fifteen minutes ago. He's packing. You know his
room--"

Julia mounted the stairs slowly, noiselessly. It was quite dark now
throughout the airy, fragrant big halls, but a crack of light came from
under Jim's door.

She stood outside for a few long minutes, thrilling like a bride with
the realization that she had the right to enter here; where Jim was, was
her sanctuary against the world and its storms.

She knocked, and Jim shouted "Come in!" Julia opened the door and faced
him across a room full of the disorder of packing. Jim was in his shirt
sleeves, his hair rumpled and wild. She slipped inside the door, and
shut it behind her, a most appealing figure in her black gown, with her
uncovered bright hair loosened and softly framing her April face.

"Jim," she said, her heart choking her, "will you take Anna and me with
you? I love you--"

There was time for no more. They were in each other's arms, laughing,
crying, murmuring now and then an incoherent word. Julia clung to her
husband like a storm-driven bird; it seemed to her that her heart would
burst in its ecstasy of content; if the big arms about her had crushed
breath from her body she would have died uncaring.

Jim kissed her wet cheeks, her tumbled hair, her red lips that so
willingly met his own. And when at last the tears were dry, and they
could speak and could look at each other, there was no need for words.
Jim sat on the couch, and Julia sat on his knee, with one arm laid
loosely about his neck in a fashion they had loved years ago, and what
they said depended chiefly upon their eyes and the tones of their voice.

"Oh, Jim--Jim!" Julia rested her cheek against his, "I have needed you
so!"

Jim tightened an arm about her.

"I adore you," he said simply, unashamed of his wet eyes. "Do you love
me?" To this Julia made no answer but a long sigh of utter content.

"Do you?" repeated Jim, after an interval.

"Does this _look_ as if I did?" Julia murmured, not moving.

Silence again, and then Jim said, with a great sigh:

"Oh, Petty, what a long, long time!"

"Thank God it's over!"