he minute I am sure of myself. We shall
not be far away and we are to be comfortably housed in a place I know,
so don't worry about us. Have a good holiday and forget us, Jerry."

"That's a good idea," he remarked.

He kissed his son, shook hands with Anna. Then, as the engine bell
sounded, he laid his hands on Jane's shoulders and looked into her eyes
for a long second. Then he was gone. He left in Jane's mind an
impression of an appeal he would not let himself make in words.

They found Miss Garnett's cottage just as Jane remembered it. There was
something soothing about going back to it, as if she had slipped out of
the years that had come since, into that other girlish self. She
recalled her mother's pleasure in the holiday. How she wished that her
frail spirit might come to visit them, and fall victim to small Jerry's
charms.

Even Miss Garnett looked the same. She was the sort of dried-up creature
which shows no age. She did not remember Jane, but she was interested in
the baby. They were the only boarders, as it happened, so no one could
be disturbed by the boy. They had two big, sunny rooms, with the balcony
out of one of them, on which Jerry Jr. could sleep. It was comfortable
and independent, the two things Jane desired.

The first day was spent in getting unpacked, settling Baby's routine.
Jane gave her full attention to all these practical details before she
so much as let her mind wander toward the problem she had come here to
consider.

With the second day their regime was inaugurated. Late breakfast for
Jane, an hour with Baby, bathing him herself, playing with him in the
sun. A long walk while he slept. Leisurely luncheon--more Baby--a rest
for all of them; then more walk, with Baby in his carriage, or a drive.
It was not until she had been there several days that Jane remembered
about her book. She smiled at the thought of how tremendously important
it had seemed to her only a week ago to have a book published, and yet
for days she had forgotten it.

"Living, living is the important thing," she said aloud, with the swift
after-thought that it was Martin who had taught her that philosophy,
Jerry who had given her the thing itself.

She went over every minute of her life with the two men, for in her
thoughts they occupied places side by side. Her first reaction against
her marriage with Jerry had passed. She saw it clearly as practical and
unlovely but not as sin. Passion had had no place in her