to drown himself. On his way
to the train Jimmie purchased a pair of glasses and, in order to invite
questions, in the club car pretended to read with them. When his friends
expressed surprise, Jimmie told them of the oculists he had consulted,
and that they had informed him his case was hopeless. If this proved
true, he threatened to drown himself.

On his return home he explained to Jeanne he had seen the lawyer, and
that that gentleman suggested the less she knew of what was going on the
better. In return Jeanne told him she had sent for Maddox and informed
him that, until the divorce was secured, they had best not be seen
together. The wisdom of this appealed even to Maddox, and already, to
fill in what remained of the summer, he had departed for Bar Harbor. To
Jimmie the relief of his absence was inexpressible. He had given himself
only a week to live, and, for the few days still remaining to him, to be
alone with Jeanne made him miserably happy. The next morning Jimmie
confessed to his wife that his eyes were failing him. The trouble came,
he explained, from a fall he had received the year before
steeplechasing. He had not before spoken of it, as he did not wish to
distress her. The oculists he had consulted gave him no hope. He would
end it, he declared, in the gun-room.

Jeanne was thoroughly alarmed. That her old playmate, lover, husband
should come to such a plight at the very time she had struck him the
hardest blow of all filled her with remorse. In a hundred ways she tried
to make up to him for the loss of herself and for the loss of his eyes.
She became his constant companion; never had she been so kind and so
considerate. They saw no one from the outside, and each day through the
wood paths that circled their house made silent pilgrimages. And each
day on a bench, placed high, where the view was fairest, together, and
yet so far apart, watched the sun sink into the sound.

"These are the times I will remember," said Jimmie; "when--when I am
alone."

The last night they sat on the bench he took out his knife and carved
the date--July, 1913.

"What does that mean?" asked Jeanne.

"It means to-night I seem to love you more and need you more than ever
before," said Jimmie. "That is what it means. Will you remember?"

Jeanne was looking away from him, but she stretched out her hand and
laid it upon his.

"To-morrow I am going to town," said Jimmie, "to see that oculist from
Paris. They say what he t