ee, Reuben, was that Milly Bowen had not known her at
all, even when she saw her in the carriage with Betty. She couldn't have
changed as much as that, if she had been taken care of, and happy."

Her affection and admiration for her husband were such as made the task
of soothing her a comparatively simple thing. The instinct of tenderness
for the mate his youth had chosen was an unchangeable one in Reuben
Vanderpoel. He was not a primitive man, but in this he was as
unquestioningly simple as if he had been a kindly New England farmer. He
had outgrown his wife, but he had always loved and protected her gentle
goodness. He had never failed her in her smallest difficulty, he could
not bear to see her hurt. Betty had been his compeer and his companion
almost since her childhood, but his wife was the tenderest care of his
days. There was a strong sense of relief in his thought of Betty now. It
was good to remember the fineness of her perceptions, her clearness of
judgment, and recall that they were qualities he might rely upon.

When he left his wife to take his train to town, he left her smiling
again. She scarcely knew how her fears had been dispelled. His talk had
all been kindly, practical, and reasonable. It was true Betty had said
in her letter that Rosy had been rather delicate, and had not been
taking very good care of herself, but that was to be remedied. Rosy had
made a little joke or so about it herself.

"Betty says I am not fat enough for an English matron. I am drinking
milk and breakfasting in bed, and am going to be massaged to please her.
I believe we all used to obey Betty when she was a child, and now she is
so tall and splendid, one would never dare to cross her. Oh, mother! I
am so happy at having her with me!"

To reread just these simple things caused the suggestion of things not
comfortably normal to melt away. Mrs. Vanderpoel sat down at a
sunny window with her lap full of letters, and forgot Milly Bowen's
floundering.

When Mr. Vanderpoel reached his office and glanced at his carefully
arranged morning's mail, Mr. Germen saw him smile at the sight of the
envelopes addressed in his daughter's hand. He sat down to read them at
once, and, as he read, the smile of welcome became a shrewd and deeply
interested one.

"She has undertaken a good-sized contract," he was saying to himself,
"and she's to be trusted to see it through. It is rather fine, the
way she manages to combine emotions and romance