Brodrick's attitude. But now she had leisure to observe. What struck her
first was the way Gertrude Collett had come out. It was in proportion as
she herself had become sunk in her maternal functions that Gertrude had
emerged. She was amazed at the extent to which a soft-feathered angel,
innocent, heaven knew, of the literary taint, could constitute herself a
great editor's intellectual companion. But Gertrude's intellect retained
the quality of Gertrude. In all its manifestations it was soothing and
serene. And there was not too much of it--never any more than a tired
and slightly deteriorated editor could stand.

Jane had observed (pitifully) the deterioration and the tiredness. A
falling off in the high fineness of the "Monthly Review" showed that
Brodrick was losing his perfect, his infallible scent. The tiredness she
judged to be the cause of the deterioration. Presently, when she was
free to take some of his work off his shoulders, he would revive.
Meanwhile she was glad that he could find refreshment in his increased
communion with Gertrude. She knew that he would sleep well after it. And
so long as he could sleep----

She said to herself that she had done Gertrude an injustice. She was
wrong in supposing that if Hugh had been married to their angel he would
have tired of her, or that he would ever have had too much of her. You
couldn't have too much of Gertrude, for there was, after all, so very
little to have. Or else she measured herself discreetly, never giving
him any more than he could stand.

But Gertrude's discretion could not disguise from Jane the fact of her
ascendency. She owed it to her very self-restraint, her amazing
moderation. And, after all, what was it but the power, developed with
opportunity, of doing for Brodrick whatever it was that Jane at the
moment could not do? When Jane shut her eyes and tried to imagine what
it would be like if Gertrude were not there, she found herself inquiring
with dismay why, whatever would he do without her? What would she do
herself? It was Gertrude who kept them all together. She ran the house
noiselessly on greased wheels, she smoothed all Brodrick's rose-leaves
as fast as Jane crumpled them. Without Gertrude there would be no peace.

Before long Jane had an opportunity of observing the fine height to
which Gertrude _could_ ascend. It was at a luncheon party that they
gave, by way of celebrating Jane's return to the social life. The Herons
were there, the y