her work. When Jerry finished his late
breakfast, he found her in the studio.

"You still here?" he asked.

She nodded cheerfully.

"Aren't you late getting off?"

"I'm not going out."

"Why not?"

"I thought we decided that yesterday."

"I didn't know we decided anything."

"You were very definite in your complaint that I shirked my duties upon
you."

"Can't Anna take care of him in the morning?"

"No. She has all she can manage."

"When are you going to get your exercise?"

"Naturally I cannot take any, unless I push the baby carriage."

"Good Lord! Go get your things on. I'll watch him."

"Thank you, Jerry, but I cannot accept sacrifices. It must be your job
and mine, and nobody abused."

"I thought it over last night. I agree. Your job and mine; nobody
abused. Now, scat."

"Much obliged, Jerry; that's fair and square."

This time the agreement held. Jerry learned to handle the occasional
outbursts of his son without calling for help. In the meantime Jane's
work was growing. Martin Christiansen returned after a month away from
town, and Jane sent him a dozen chapters of the rewritten version. It
brought him to the studio, post haste. Jerry was painting, so they sat
alone in the reception-room.

"But, Jane, what has happened to you?" he demanded.

"Life, experience, marriage, baby; all the big things have happened to
me since I began that book. I'm only just beginning to be _me_, Martin."

"I was astonished, Jane! It was as if sunshine suddenly played over a
gray room. The room was charming, well appointed, choice, but a trifle
cold. But now, you've let the sun into it. It's warm, it's human, it's
home."

"That's what I want you to feel. I'm just as new-born as baby. I had to
write it all over, to bring me up to date. I feel so young--younger than
I ever felt in my life. Of course, youth must be a state of mind, since
I find mine when I'm almost thirty."

He smiled his appreciation.

"Certainly, wise woman, youth has nothing to do with time. It comes to
some of us young and to some of us late. When it comes to us at thirty
we are lucky, for by that time we know how to value it. The old saying
that no actress under thirty is a good Juliet has true psychology behind
it. She has only just gotten far enough away at thirty to analyze youth,
to dramatize it, get at the heart of it."

"My youthful vigour is such, Martin, that at this rate I shall be
through by Christmas," she smiled.

"How