curiosity and people thronged the
court room when she pleaded. They saw a quiet woman, dressed in black,
but when she began speaking you could hear a pin drop. There was a
thrilling quality in her voice, much remarked by the press, and big
lawyers pitted against her had been known to break down and weep, to the
confusion of their clients. The judge--it was always the same one--had a
big bushy beard, and, though of fierce and impartial mien at the
beginning of the proceedings, he had been known time and again, as her
address continued, to draw forth his large silk handkerchief and blubber
into it. The gratitude of the widows--who extended in a long, black
line, leading their army of white-faced little boys, looking strangely
like Harry when he had the croup--was the one thing that she could not
stand. She would not see them when it was all over, but she couldn't
keep them from sending her flowers, and accordingly her apartment was
always a bower.

So mighty would these scenes be, so moving, and so pathetic, that Nancy
would emerge entirely at peace with Henry and the world. They dwarfed
the cause of her anger; they left her calm and serene, a cousin to the
Superwoman.

* * * * *

The first evening at home passed off very pleasantly indeed. Henry was
charmingly interested in the details of her trip, and the usual cribbage
session was doubled. Harry's progress at school and through the
mumps--an illness which had torn his aunt--were duly recounted and the
maids given a good bill of health. The state of Henry's classes was
described at some length. They were slightly better than usual, it
appeared, and his special course in Labour Problems was going perfectly.
It was really making him famous, he told Nancy.

That night in her room, as she sat at her desk writing her diary, she
calmly told herself that the present tranquillity should last. She
solemnly resolved to guard against every possible contingency that
might lead to a "situation." She did not purpose to surrender her
individuality; she would not become a dummy. But there _must_ be a
middle ground where she could blend service to herself with service to
her family. Life should be rich, but it ought also to be tactful. Surely
this was not an impossible union. Very well, then, she would live richly
and tactfully.

Just exactly what she meant by living richly she didn't quite know. It
would doubtless be somewhat clearer in the morning