id the doctor, looking from Juliet to Rachel, who stood
at his side. "She's mine--all mine. I have to keep saying it over and over
to make sure."

"For your comfort," answered Juliet, smiling at them both, "I'll tell you
that she looks as if she were yours."

"Does she?" he cried, laughing happily. "How does she look?" He turned and
surveyed her. "She looks very proud and sweet and still--she's always been
those things--and very beautiful--more beautiful than ever before. But do
you think she really looks as if she were mine? Tell me how."

Juliet turned from him, big and eager like a boy, to his bride, "proud and
sweet and still," as he had said. "I've never seen Rachel look absolutely
happy before," she told him. "There's always been a bit of a shadow. But
now--look down into her eyes, Roger; there's no shadow there now."

But when he would have looked Rachel's lashes fell. "Not yet? By-and-by
then, Rachel," he whispered. Then he turned to Juliet--and Anthony, who
had come up to stand beside her.

"If it hadn't been for you and your home-making this day would never have
come for me," he said. "You have been good friends and true, to us both.
Let us keep you so--and good-bye."

XXIX.--JULIET PROVES HERSELF STILL INDIFFERENT

On a July evening, a month later, Cathcart and a great roll of architects'
paper arrived on the Robeson porch. For an hour Juliet looked and
listened, while Anthony, as he had promised, said not a word to bias her
decision. Cathcart laid before her plans for a new house which were--even
Anthony could but admit to himself beyond praise. From every
standpoint--the artistic, the domestic, the practical, even the
economical, so far as the modern architect understands the meaning of the
word--the plans were ideal. Juliet studied them absorbedly, showing
plainly her appreciation of them.

"It would be a beautiful home," she said at length. "I can think of
nothing more perfect than such a house."

Cathcart looked triumphant. Without glancing at Anthony he produced
another set of plans.

"Just to please myself, Mrs. Robeson," he announced, "I have spent some
interesting hours in trying to show what could be done with this old
house, should any one care to lay out a reasonable sum upon it. Frankly,
old houses never repay much expenditure of money, yet there is a certain
satisfaction in working out the details of restoration and improvement
which makes interesting study. Purely as a matter