hy Jack had not come to see her yet; his future
was uncertain, he must wait for a final verdict from his doctor, he was
perhaps still chewing the cud of his resentment. And, when the first
reasons were exhausted, her vanity wove a hundred more in stout,
impenetrable protection against the fantastic thought that any man could
tire of her.

"Oh, I wish you _didn't_!" Barbara cried at last. "Why don't you go away
and forget all about me?"

She had trapped him neatly, as he had no doubt she well knew.

"I can't forget you," he answered, savagely conscious that he was
presenting her with new weapons. "Whatever you did, you'd be the biggest
thing in my life; I should always need you."

This time she put her triumph into words.

"Don't you think that Jack may need me as badly?"

"He's had his chance. . . ."

Eric discovered suddenly that the wire had ceased to throb. Evidently
she had quietly hung up the receiver. In another moment she could only
have offered to say good-bye; and that she would not do. He was
beginning to know her moods and her nature very well. . . .

Lighting a cigarette, he was trying to think what he had been doing
before their conversation started, when the telephone-bell rang.

"Eric? It's me, darling. We were cut off. Eric, don't be bitter with me.
I've never done anything to deserve your love, but it's been so
wonderful that I won't allow you to say anything which will spoil it.
Some day I think you'll look back on it as the biggest thing in your
life."

2

As soon as Manders announced the opening night of "Mother's Son," Eric
booked his passage to New York for the following week. For the first
time he informed his parents that he was leaving England and gave them
to understand that he was very fully occupied. There were a hundred and
one arrangements to conclude, fare-wells to take; and, when he applied
to Gaisford for a medical certificate, he found himself packed off to
bed with orders to stay there till the day of sailing.

"If you'll do what I tell you, I'll do my best for you," said the doctor
sternly. "If you won't, Eric, on my honour I'll wash my hands of you.
Now, which is it to be?"

"I shall get up for my own first night," said Eric.

"You'll do what I tell you. If you're fit to go, you shall go. But I
don't think you'll be in a condition to stand the excitement of it."

Two days later Eric sent a message to Barbara, reminding her that she
had promised to come with him t