PART TWO - CHAPTER II

by Kathleen Norris

　　In these days, the Studdifords were househunting in all of Jim's freehours; confining their efforts almost entirely to the city, although atrip to San Mateo or Ross Valley made a welcome change now and then. Itwas not until late in October that the right house was found, on PacificAvenue, almost at the end of the cable-car line. It was a new house,large and square, built of dignified dark-red brick, and with a roomyand beautiful garden about it. There was a street entrance, barred by aniron gate elaborately grilled, and giving upon three shallow brick stepsthat led to the heavily carved door. On the side street was an entrancefor the motor car and tradespeople, the slope of the hill giving roomfor a basement kitchen, with its accompanying storerooms and laundries.

　　Upstairs, the proportions of the rooms, and their exquisite finish, madethe house prominent among the city's beautiful homes. Even Jim couldfind nothing to change. The splendid dark simplicity of the drawing-roomwas in absolute harmony with the great main hall, and in charmingcontrast to the cheerful library and the sun-flooded morning-room. Thedining-room had its own big fireplace, with leather-cushioned ingleseats, and quaint, twinkling, bottle-paned windows above. On the nextfloor the four big bedrooms, with their three baths and threedressing-rooms and countless closets, were all bright and sunny, withshining cream-coloured panelling, cretonne papers in gay designs offlowers and birds, and crystal door knobs. Upstairs again were maids'rooms, storerooms lined in cedar, and more baths.

　　"Perfect!" said Jim radiantly, on the afternoon when, the Studdifordsfirst inspected the house. "It's just exactly right, and I'm strong forit!" He came over to Julia, who was thoughtfully staring out of adrawing-room window. Her exquisite beauty was to-day set off by a longloose sealskin coat, for the winter was early, and a picturesque littlemotor bonnet, also of seal, with a velvet rose against her soft hair."Little bit sad to-day, sweetheart?" Jim asked, kissing the tip of herear.

　　"No—o. I was just thinking what a lovely, sheltered backyard!" Juliasaid sensibly, raising her blue eyes. But she had brightened perceptiblyat his tenderness. "I love you, Jim," she said, very simply.

　　"And I adore you!" Jim answered, his arms about her. "I've been thinkingall day how rotten that sounded this morning!" he added in a lower tone."I'm so sorry!"

　　"As if it was your fault!" Julia protested generously. And a momentlater she charmed him by declaring herself to be entirely satisfied withthis enchanting house, and by entering vigorously upon the question offurnishings.

　　The little episode to which Doctor Studdiford had made a somewhatembarrassed allusion had taken place in their rooms at the hotel thatmorning, while they were breakfasting. Plans for a little dinner partywere progressing pleasantly, over the omelette and toast, when Jimchanced to suggest that a certain Mrs. Pope be included among theguests.

　　"Oh, Jim—not Mrs. Jerry Pope?" Julia questioned, wide eyed.

　　"Yes, but she calls herself Mrs. Elsie Carroll Pope now. Why not?"

　　"Oh, Jim—but she's divorced!"

　　"Well, so are lots of other people!"

　　"Yes, I know. But it was such a horrid divorce, Jim!"

　　"Horrid how?"

　　"Oh, some other man, and letters in the papers, and Mr. Pope kept boththe children! It was awful!"

　　"Oh, come, Ju—she's a nice little thing, awfully witty and clever. Whygo out of your way to knock her!"

　　"I'm not going out of my way," Julia answered with dignity. "But she wasa great friend of Mary Chetwynde, who used to teach at The Alexander,and she came out there two or three times, and she's a noisy, yellingsort of woman—and her hair is dyed—yes, it is, Jim!"

　　"Lord, you women do love to rip each other up the back!" Jim smiledlazily, as he wheeled his chair about, and lighted a cigarette.

　　"I'm not ripping her up the back at all," Julia protested with spirit."But she's not a lady, and I hate the particular set she goes with—"

　　"Not a lady—ha!" Jim ejaculated. "She was a Cowdry."

　　Julia leaned back in her chair, and opened a fat letter from SallyBorroughs in Europe, that had come in her morning's mail.

　　"Ask her by all means to dinner," she said calmly. "Only don't expect meto admire her and approve of her, Jim, for I won't do it; I know toomuch about her!"

　　"It's just possible Mrs. Pope isn't waiting for your admiration andapproval, my dear," Jim said, nettled "But I doubt, whatever she knew ofyou, if she would speak so unkindly about you!"

　　Julia turned as scarlet as if a whip had fallen across her face. Shestared at him for a moment with fixed, horrified eyes, then crushed herletter together with a spasmodic gesture of the hands, and let it fallas she went blindly toward the bedroom door. Jim sat staring after her,puzzled at first, then with the red blood surging into his face. Hedropped his cigarette and his newspaper, and for perhaps three minutesthere was no sound in the apartment but the coffee bubbling in thepercolator, and the occasional clank of the radiator.

　　Then Jim jumped up suddenly and flung open the door of the bedroom.Julia was sitting at her dressing-table, one elbow resting upon it, andher head dropped on her hand. She raised heavy eyes and looked at him.

　　"Don't be a fool, Ju," Jim said, solicitous and impatient. "You know Ididn't mean anything by that. I wouldn't be such a cad. You know Iwouldn't say a thing like that—I couldn't. Come on back and finish yourcoffee."

　　But he did not kiss her; he did not put his arm about her; and Juliafelt curiously weary and cold as she came slowly back to her place. Jimimmediately lighted a fresh cigarette, and began to rattle away somewhatnervously of his plans for the day. He was going over to the OaklandHospital to look at his man with the spine—better not try to meet forlunch. But how about that Pacific Avenue house? If Julia took the motorand stopped at the agent's for the key, he would meet her there atfour—how about it?

　　Agreed. Gosh! It was nearly ten o'clock, and Jim had to get out to theChildren's Hospital before he went to Oakland. Julia had a quick kiss,and was advised to take good care of herself. Then Jim was gone, and shecould fling her arm across the table and sob as if her heart wouldbreak.

　　Julia cried for a long time. Then she stopped resolutely, and spent along half hour in serious thought, her fingers absently tracing thethreads of the tablecloth with a fork, her thoughts flying.

　　Presently she roused herself, telephoned Jim's chauffeur and the agentof the Pacific Avenue house, bathed her reddened eyes, and inspected hernew furs, just home from the shop. Now and then her breast rose with along sigh, but she did not cry again.

　　"I'll wear my new furs," she decided soberly. "Jim loves me to lookpretty. And I must cheer up; he hates me to be blue! Who can I lunchwith, to cheer up? Aunt Sanna! I'll get a cold chicken and some cake,and go out to The Alexander!"

　　So the outward signs of the storm were obliterated, and no one knew ofthe scar that Julia carried from that day in her heart. Only a tiny,tiny scar, but enough to remind her now and then with cold terror thateven into her Paradise the serpent could thrust his head, enough toprove to her bitter satisfaction that there was already something thatJim's money could not buy.

　　The furnishing of the Pacific Avenue house proceeded apace—it was aneminently gratifying house to furnish, and Jim and Julia almost wishedtheir labours not so light. All rugs looked well on those beautifulfloors; all pictures were at their best against the dull rich tones ofthe walls. Did Mrs. Studdiford like the soft blue curtains in thelibrary, or the dull gold, or the coffee-coloured tapestry? Mrs.Studdiford, an exquisite little figure of indecision, in a greatElizabethan chair of carved black oak, didn't really know; they were allso beautiful! She wondered why the blue wouldn't be lovely in thebreakfast room, if they used the gold here? Then she wouldn't use theEnglish cretonne in the breakfast room? Oh, yes, of course, she hadforgotten the English cretonne!

　　At last it was all done, from the two stained little Roman marblebenches outside the front door, to the monogrammed sheets in the atticcedar closet. The drawing-room had its grand piano, its great mahoganydavenport facing the fire, its rich dark rugs, its subdued gleam ofcopper and crystal, dull blue china and bright enamel. The littlereception room was gay with yellow-gold silk and teakwood; Jim's librarywas severely handsome with its dark leather chairs and rows of darkleather bindings. A dozen guests could sit about the long oak table inthe dining-room; the great sideboard with its black oak cupids andsatyrs, and its enormous claw feet, struck perhaps the only pretentiousnote in the house. A wide-lipped bowl, in clear yellow glass, held rosypippins or sprawling purple grapes on the table in the window, thesideboard carried old jugs and flagons in blackened silver or dullpottery.

　　Upstairs the sunny perfection of the bedrooms was not marred by the needof so much as a cake of violet soap. Julia revelled in details here:flowers in the bedrooms must match the hangings; there must be so manyfringed towels and so many plain, in each bathroom. She amused as wellas edified Jim with her sedate assurance in the matter of engagingmaids; her cheeks would grow very pink when interviews were afoot, butshe never lost her air of calm.

　　"We are as good as they are," said Julia, "but how hard it is toremember it when you are talking to them!"

　　Presently Foo Ting was established supreme in the kitchen, Lizziesecured as waitress, and Ellie, Lizzie's sister, engaged to do upstairswork. Chadwick, Jim's chauffeur, was accustomed occasionally to enactalso the part of valet, so that it was with a real luxury of servicethat the young Studdifords settled down for the winter.

　　Julia had anticipated this settling as preceding a time of quiet, whenshe and Jim should loiter over their snug little dinners, should come toknow the comforts of their own chairs, at each side of the library fire,and laugh and cry over some old book, or talk and dream while theystared into the coals. The months were racing about to her first weddinganniversary, yet she felt that she really knew Jim only in a certainsuperficial, holiday sense—she knew what cocktail he liked best, ofcourse, and what seats in the theatre; she was quite sure of the effectof her own beauty upon him. But she longed for the real Jim, the soulthat was hidden somewhere under his gay mask, under the trim,cleanshaven, smiling face. When there was less confusion, less laughingand interrupting and going about, then she would find her husband, Juliathought, and they would have long silent hours together in which tobuild the foundation of their life.

　　Her beautiful earnest face came to have a somewhat strained and wistfullook, as the weeks fled past without bringing the quiet, empty time forwhich she longed. All about her now stretched the glittering spokes ofthe city's great social wheel, every mail brought her a flood of notes,every quarter hour summoned her to the telephone, every fraction of theday had its appointed pleasure. Julia must swiftly eliminate from herlife much of the rich feminine tradition of housewifery; it was not forher to darn her husband's hose, to set exquisite patches in thinningtable linen, to gather flowers for jars and vases. Julia never saw Jim'sclothing except when he was wearing it, the table linen was Ellie'saffair, and Lizzie had the entire lower floor bright and fragrant withfresh flowers before Jim and Julia came down to breakfast. Young Mrs.Studdiford found herself readily assuming the society woman's dry, briefmannerisms. Jim used to grin sometimes when he heard her at thetelephone:

　　"Oh, that would be charming, Mrs. Babcock," Julia would say, "if you'lllet me run away at three, for I must positively keep an appointment withCarroll at three, if I'm to have my gown for dear Mrs. Morton's balmasque Friday night. And if I'm just a tiny bit late you won't be cross?For we all do German at twelve now, you know, and it will run over thehour! Oh, you're very sweet! Oh, no, Mrs. Talcott spoke to me about it,but we can't—we're both so sorry, but this week seems to be justfull—no, she said that, but I told her that next week was just as bad,so she's to let me know about the week after. Oh, I know she is. And Idid want to give her a little tea, but there doesn't seem to be amoment! I think perhaps I'll ask Mrs. Castle to let us dine with hersome other time, and give Betty a little dinner Monday—"

　　And so on and on, in the quick harassed voice of one who must meetobligations.

　　"You're a great social success, Ju," Jim said, smiling, one morning.

　　Julia made a little grimace over her letters.

　　"Oh, come off, now!" her husband railed good-naturedly. "You know youlove it. You know you like to dress up and trot about with me and beadmired!"

　　"I like to trot about with you," Julia conceded, sighing in spite of hersmile. "But I get very tired of dinners. Some other woman gets you, andsome other woman's husband gets me, and we say such flat things, aboutmotor cars, or the theatre—nothing friendly or intimate orinteresting!"

　　"Wait until you know them all better, Ju. Besides, you couldn't getintimate at a dinner, very well. Besides"—Jim defended the institutionsof his class—"you didn't look very gay when young Jo Coutts seemedinclined to get very friendly at dinner the other night!"

　　"Jo Coutts was drunk," Julia asserted briefly. "As they very often are,"she added severely. "Not raging drunk, but just silly, or sentimentaland important, you know."

　　"I know," Jim laughed.

　　"And it makes me furious!" Julia said. "As for knowing them better, theyaren't one bit more interesting when they're old friends. They're morefamiliar, I admit that, but all this cheeky yelling back and forth isn'tinteresting—it's just tiresome! 'I'm holding your husband's hand,Alice!' 'All right, then I'm going to kiss your husband!'" Her voicerose in mimicry. "And then Kenneth Roberts tells some little shadystory, and every one screams, and every one goes on telling it over andover! Why, that little silly four-line verse Conrad Kent had lastnight—every one in the room had to learn it by heart and say it sixhundred times before we were done with it!"

　　"You're a cynic, woman," Jim said, kissing his wife, who by this timehad come around to his chair. "It's all too easy for you, that's thetrouble! They've accepted you with open arms; you're the rage! You oughtto have been kept for a while on the anxious seat, like the poor Groves,and Mrs. McCann; then you'd appreciate High Sassiety!"

　　"Well, I wouldn't make myself ridiculous and pathetic like the Groves,trying to burst into society, and giving people a chance to snub me!"Julia said thoughtfully. "Never mind," she added, "next month Lentbegins, and then there must be some let-up!"

　　However, Lent had only begun when the Studdifords made a flying trip toHonolulu, where Jim had a patient. The great liner was fascinating toJulia, and, as usual, her beauty and charm, and the famous youngsurgeon's unostentatious bigness, made them friends on all sides, sothat the life of cocktail mixing and card playing and gossip went on asmerrily as it had in San Francisco. Julia could not spend the empty daysstaring dreamily out at the rolling green Pacific; every man on boardwas anxious to improve her acquaintance, from the Captain to theseventeen-year-old little English lad who was going out to his father inIndia, and to not one of them did it ever occur that lovely little Mrs.Studdiford might prefer to be left alone.

　　But the sea air shook Julia into splendid health and energy, and she washer sweetest self in Honolulu; she and Jim both seemed to recapture heresome of the exquisite tenderness of their honeymoon a year ago. Neitherwould admit that there had been any drifting apart, they had never beenless than lovers, yet now they experienced the delights of areconciliation. Julia, in her delicate linens and thin embroideredpongees, with a filmy parasol shading her bright hair, seemed morewonderful than ever before, and lovely Hawaii was a setting for one oftheir happiest times together.

　　On the boat, coming home, however, there occurred a little incident thatdarkened Julia's sky for a long time to come. On the very day ofstarting she and Jim, with some other returning San Franciscans, werestanding, a laughing group on the deck, when a dark, handsome youngwoman came forward from a nearby cabin doorway, and held out her hand.

　　"Do you remember me, Julia?" said she, smiling.

　　Julia, whose white frock was draped with a dozen ropes of brilliantflowers, and who looked like a little May Queen in her radiant bloom,looked at the newcomer for a few moments, and then said, with a clearingface:

　　"Hannah! Of course I know you. Mrs. Palmer, may I present DoctorStuddiford?"

　　Jim smilingly shook hands, and as the rest of the group melted away,Mrs. Palmer explained that her husband's business was in Manila, but shewas bringing up her two little children to visit her parents in Oakland.

　　"She's extremely pretty," Jim said, when he and Julia were alone intheir luxurious stateroom. "Who is she?"

　　"I don't know why I supposed you knew that she is one of Mark'ssisters," Julia said, colouring. "I saw something of them all,after—afterward, you know."

　　"Oh!" Jim's face, which he chanced to be washing, also grew red; hescowled as he plunged it again into the towel. Julia proceeded with herown lunch toilet in silence, humming a little now and then, but thebrightness was gone from the day for her; the swift-flying green wateroutside the window had turned to lead, the immaculate little apartmentwas bleak and bare. Jim did not speak as they went down to lunch, norwas he himself when they met again, after a game of auction, at dinner.In fact, this marked Julia's first acquaintance with a new side of hischaracter.

　　For Jim's sunny nature was balanced by an occasional mood so dark as tomake him a different man while it lasted. Barbara had once lightlyhinted this to Julia—"Jim was glooming terribly, and did nothing butsnarl"—and Miss Toland had confirmed the hint when she asked him, atChristmas dinner, when he and Julia had been eight months man and wife:"Well, Jim, never a blue devil once, eh?"

　　"Never a one. Aunt Sanna!" Jim had responded gayly.

　　"What should he have blue devils about?" Julia had demanded on thisoccasion, presenting herself indignantly to them, and looking in herblack velvet and white lace like a round-eyed child.

　　She thought of that happy moment this afternoon, with a little chill ather heart. For there was no doubt that Jim had blue devils now. When shecame back to her stateroom at six o'clock, he was already there, flungacross the bed, his arms locked under his head, his sombre eyes on theceiling, where green water-lights were playing.

　　"Jim, don't you feel well, dear?"

　　"Perfectly well, thank you!" Jim said coldly.

　　Slightly angered by his tone, Julia fell silent, busied herself with herbrushes, hooked on a gown of demure cherry colour and gray, caught up agreat silky scarf.

　　"Anything I can do for you, Jim?" she said then, politely.

　　"Just—let me alone!" Jim answered, without stirring.

　　Hurt to the quick, and with sudden colour in her face, Julia left theroom. She held her head high, but she felt almost a little sick with theshock. Five minutes later she was the centre of a chattering group onthe deck. A milky twilight held the sea, the skyline was no longer to bediscerned in the opal spaces all about them, the ship moved over a vastplain of pearl-coloured smooth waters. Where staterooms were lighted,long fingers of rosy brightness fell across the deck; here and there inthe shelter of a bit of wall were dark blots that were passengers,wrapped and reclining, and unrecognizable in the gloom.

　　Julia and a young man named Manners began to pace the deck. Mr. Mannerswas a poet, and absorbed in the fascinating study of his ownpersonality, but he served Julia's need just now, and never noticed herabstraction and indifference. He described to Julia the birth of his ownsoul, when he was what the world considered only a clumsy, unthinkinglad of seventeen, and Julia listened as a pain-racked fever patientmight listen with vague distress to the noise of distant hammers.

　　Presently they were all at dinner; soup, but no Jim; fish, but no Jim.Here was Jim at last, pale, freshly shaven, slipping into his place witha muttered apology and averted eyes. With a sense of impending calamityupon her, Julia struggled through her dinner; after a while she foundherself holding cards, under a bright light; after a while again, shereached her stateroom.

　　Julia turned up the light. The room was close and empty, littered withthe evidences of Jim's hasty toilet. She opened a window, and the sweetsalt air filtered in, infinitely soothing and refreshing. She began togo about the room, picking up Jim's clothes, and putting the place inorder. Once or twice her face twitched with pain, and once she stoppedand pressed Jim's coat to her heart with both hands, as if to stop awound, but she did not cry, and presently began her usual preparationsfor bed in her usual careful fashion. The cherry-coloured gown had beenput away, and Julia, in an embroidered white kimono almost stiff enoughto stand alone, was putting her rings into their little cases when Jimcame in. She looked at him over her shoulder.

　　"Where have you been, Jim?" she asked quietly, noticing his white face,his tumbled hair, and a certain disorder in his appearance. Jim did notanswer, and after a puzzled moment Julia repeated her question.

　　"Up on deck," Jim said, a bitter burst of words breaking through hisugly silence. He dropped into a chair, and put his head in his hands.

　　Julia watched him for a few moments in silence, while she went on withher preparations. She wound her little watch and put it under herpillow; she folded the counterpanes neatly back from both beds, and gotout her slippers. Then she sat down to put trees into the little satinslippers she had been wearing, and carried them to the closet.

　　Suddenly Jim sat up, dropped his hands, and stared at her haggardly.

　　"Julia," said he hoarsely, "I've been up there thinking—I'm going mad,I guess—"

　　He stopped, and there was silence. Julia stood still, looking at him.

　　"Tell me," Jim said, "was it Mark?"

　　The hideous suddenness of it struck Julia like a bodily blow; she stoodas if she had been turned to ice. A great weight seemed to seize herlimbs, a sickening vertigo attacked her. She had a suffocating sensethat time was passing, that ages were going by in that bright, glaringroom, with the sea air coming in a shuttered window, and the two beds,with their smooth white pillows, so neatly turned down—Still, she couldnot speak—not yet.

　　"Yes, it was Mark," she said tonelessly and gently, after a longsilence. "I thought you knew."

　　"Oh, my God!" Jim said, choking. He flung his hands madly in the air andgot on his feet. Then, as if ashamed, through all the boiling surge ofhis emotions, at this loss of control, he rammed his hands into thepockets of his light overcoat, and began to pace the room."You—you—you!" he said, in a sort of wail, and in another moment,muttering some incoherency about air, he had snatched up his cap and wasgone again.

　　Julia slowly crossed the room, and sat down on her bed. She felt as aperson who had swallowed a dose of poison might feel: agonies were soonto begin that would drive the life from her body, but she could not feelthem yet. Instead she felt tired, tired beyond all bearing, and thelights hurt her eyes. She slipped her kimono from her, stepped out ofher slippers, and plunged the room into utter darkness. Like a tiredchild she crept into bed, and with a great sigh dropped her head on thepillow.

　　The ship plowed on, its great lights cutting a steady course over theblack water, its whole bulk quivering to the heartbeat of the mightyengines; whispered good-nights and laughing good-nights were said in thenarrow, hot hallways. Lights went out in cabin after cabin. The deckswere dark and deserted. Below stairs the world that never slept hummedlike a beehive; squads of men were washing floors, laying tables; thekitchen was as hot and busy as at midday; the engine rooms were filledwith silhouetted forms briskly coming and going. Up on one of the darkdecks, with the soft mist blowing in his face, Jim spent the long night,his folded arms resting on the rail, his sombre eyes following thesilent rush of waters, and in her cabin Julia lay wide awake andbattling with despair.

　　She had thought the old dim horror over and done with. Now she knew itnever would be that; now she knew there was no escape. The happy littlecastle she had builded for herself fell about her like a house of cards;she was dishonoured, she was abased, she was powerless. In telling Jimher whole history, on that terrible night at the settlement house, shehad flung down her arms; there was no new extenuating fact to add to thestory; it was all stale and unchangeable; it must stand before theireyes forever, a hideous fact. And it seemed to Julia, tossing restlesslyin the dark, that a thousand sleeping menaces rose now to terrify her.Perhaps Hannah Palmer knew! Julia's breath stopped, her whole body shookwith terror. And if Hannah, why not others? A letter of Mark's to someone—to any one—might be in existence now, waiting its hour to appear,and to disgrace her, and Jim, and all who loved them!

　　And was it for this, she asked herself bitterly, that she had so risenfrom the past, so studied and struggled and aspired? Had she been madall these years to forget the danger in which she stood, to imagine thatshe had buried her tragedy too deep for discovery? Had she been mad tomarry Jim, her dear, sweet, protecting old Jim, who was always so goodto her?

　　But at the thought of him, and of her bitter need of him in thisdesolate hour, Julia fell to violent crying, and after her tears shedrifted into a deep sleep, her lashes wet, and her breast occasionallyrising with a sharp sigh as a child's might.

　　When she awakened, dawn was breaking, the level waste of the sea waspearl colour and rose under a slowly rising mist. Julia bathed anddressed, and went out to the deck, where, with a great plaid wrappedabout her, she might watch the miracle of the birth of day. And as thewarming rays of the sun enveloped her, and the newly washed decks driedunder its touch, and as signs of life began to be heard all about,slamming doors and gay greetings, laughter and the crisp echoes of feet,hope and self-confidence crept again into her heart. She was young,after all, and pretty, and Jim's very agony of jealousy only proved thathe loved her. She had never deceived him, he could not accuse her of onesecond's weakness there. He had only had a sudden, terrible revelationof the truth he had known so long; it could not affect him permanently.

　　"Going down?" said a voice gayly.

　　Julia turned to smile upon a group of cheerful acquaintances.

　　"Thinking about it," she smiled.

　　"Where's Himself?" somebody asked.

　　"Still asleep—the lazy bones!" Julia answered calmly. They all wentdownstairs together, and Julia was perhaps a little ashamed to find theodours of coffee and bacon delightful, and to enjoy her breakfast.

　　Afterward she went straight to her room, not at all surprised to findJim there, flung, dressed as he was, across his bed, and breathingheavily. Julia studied him for a moment in silence. Then she set aboutthe somewhat difficult task of rousing him, quite her capable wifelylittle self when there was something she could do for him.

　　"Jim! You'll have to get these damp things off, dear! Come, Jim, youcan't sleep this way. Wake up, Jim!"

　　Drowsily, heavily, he consented to be partially undressed, and coveredwith a warm rug. Julia grew quite breathless over her exertions, tuckedhim in carefully.

　　"I'm going to tell the chambermaid not to come in until I ring, Jim. Butshall I send you in a cup of coffee?"

　　"Ha!" Jim said, already asleep.

　　"Do you want some coffee, Jim?"

　　"No—no coffee!"

　　Julia tiptoed about the room a moment more, took her little sewingbasket and a new magazine, and giving a departing look at her husband,found his eyes wide open and watching her. Instantly a rush of tearspressed behind her eyelids, and she felt herself grow weak and confused.

　　"Thank you for fixing me up so nicely, darling," Jim said meekly.

　　"Oh, you're welcome!" Julia answered, with a desperate effort to appearcalm.

　　"Will you kiss me, Julie?" Jim pursued, and a second later she was onher knees beside him, their arms were locked together, and their lipsmet as if they had never kissed each other before.

　　"You little angel," Jim said, "what a beast I am! As if life hadn't beenhard enough for you without my adding to it! Oh, but what a night I'vehad! And you'll forgive me, won't you, sweetheart, for I love you so?"

　　Julia put her face down and cried stormily, her wet face pressed againsthis, his arms holding her close. After a while, when the sobs lessened,they began to talk together, and then laugh together in the exquisiterelief of being reconciled. Then Jim went to sleep, and Julia sat besidehim, his hand in hers, her eyes idly following the play of broken brightlights that quivered on the wall.

　　She leaned back in her big chair, feeling weary and spent, broken, bututterly at peace. From that hour life was changed to her, and she dimlyfelt the change, accepted it as stoically as an Indian might the loss ofa limb, and adjusted herself to all it implied. If Jim was a little lessher god, he was still hers, hers in some new relationship that appealedto what was protective and maternal in her. And if the burden of hersecret had grown inconceivably heavy for her to bear, she knew by someinstinct that this burst of jealous frenzy had somehow lightened itsweight for Jim; she, not he, would henceforth pay the price.

　　"And life isn't easy and gay, say what you will," thought Juliaphilosophically. "There is no use grumbling and groaning, and saying toyourself, 'Oh, if only it wasn't just this or that thing worrying me!'for there is always this or that. Kennedy and Bab think I am the mostfortunate girl in the world, and yet, to be able to go back ten years,and live a few weeks over again, I'd give up everything I have, evenJim. Just to start square! Just to feel that wretched thing wasn't therelike a layer of mud under everything I do, making it a farce for me totalk of uplifting girls by settlement work, as people are eternallymaking me talk! Or if only every one knew it, it would be easier, forthen I would feel at least that I stood on my own feet! But now, ofcourse, that's impossible, on Jim's account. What a horrible scandal itwould be, what a horrible thing it is, that any girl can cloud her ownlife in this way!

　　"As for boys, I suppose mighty few of them are pure by the time they'rethrough college, by the time they're through High School, perhaps! It'sall queer, for that involves girls and women, too, thousands of them!And how absurd it would be to bring such a charge as this against a man,ten years after it happened, when he was married and a respectablecitizen!

　　"Well, society is very queer; civilization hasn't got very far;sometimes I think virtue is a good deal of an accident, and that peopletake themselves pretty seriously!" And so musing, Julia dozed, andwakened, and dozed again. But in her heart had been sowed the seed thatwas never to be uprooted, the little seed of doubt: doubt of the socialstructure, doubt of its grave authorities, its awe-inspiredinterpreters. What were the mummers all so busy about and how littletheir mummery mattered! This shall be permitted, this shall not bepermitted; what is in your heart and brain concerns us not at all; whereyour soul spends its solitudes is not our affair; so that you keep acertain surface smoothness, so that you dress and talk and spend as webid you, you—for such time as we please—shall be one of us!