bob had cried when the news came from the hospital. it had been dreadful. jane had never seen a man cry. they had been hard sobs, with broken apologies between. “i’m a fool to act like this....”

jane had tried to say things, then had sat silent and uncomfortable while bob fought for self-control.

miss martin had gone home before the message arrived. bob was told that he could not see his wife. but the surgeon would be glad to talk to him, at eight.

“and i know what he’ll say,” bob had said to jane drearily, “that if i can get that specialist up from hot springs, he may be able to diagnose the trouble. but how am i going to get the money, janey? it will cost a thousand dollars to rush him here and pay his fee. and my income has practically stopped. with all these labor troubles—there’s no building. and judy’s nurses cost twelve dollars a day—and her room five. oh, poor people haven’t any right to be sick, janey. there isn’t any place for them.”

jane’s face was pale and looked pinched.[241] “there’s the check baldy sent me for christmas, fifty dollars.”

“dear girl, it wouldn’t be a drop in the bucket.”

“i know,” thoughtfully. “bob, do they think that if that specialist comes it will save judy’s life?”

“it might. it—it’s the last chance, janey.”

janey hugged her knees. “can’t you borrow the money?”

“i have borrowed up to the limit of my securities, and how can i ever pay?”

her voice was grim. “we will manage to pay; the thing now is to save judy.”

“yes,” he tried, pitifully, to meet her courage. “if they’ll get the specialist, we’ll pay.”

she had risen. “i’ll call up mr. towne, and tell him i can’t dine with him.”

“but, janey, there’s no reason why you shouldn’t keep your engagement.”

she had turned on him with a touch of indignation. “do you think i could have one happy moment with my mind on judy?”

bob had looked at her, and then looked away. “have you thought that you might get the money from towne?”

her startled gaze had questioned him. “get money from mr. towne?”

“yes. oh, why not, janey? he’ll do anything for you.”

“but how could i pay him?”

[242]there had been dead silence, then bob said, “well, he’s in love with you, isn’t he?”

“you mean that i can—marry him?”

“yes. why not? judy says he’s crazy about you. and, jane, it’s foolish to throw away such a chance. not every girl has it.”

“but, bob, i’m not—in love with him.”

“you’ll learn to care—— he’s a delightful chap, i’d say.” bob was eager. “now look here, janey, i’m talking to you like a dutch uncle. it isn’t as if i were advising you to do it for our sakes. it is for your own sake, too. why, it would be great, old girl. never another worry. somebody always to look after you.”

the wind outside was singing a wild song, a roaring, cynical song, it seemed to jane. she wanted to say to bob, “but i’ve always been happy in my little house with baldy and philomel, and the chickens and the cats.” but of course bob could say, “you’re not happy now, and anyhow what are you going to do about judy?”

judy!

she had spoken at last with an effort. “i’ll tell him to come over after dinner. we can ride for a bit.”

“why not stay here? i’ll be at the hospital. and the storm is pretty bad.”

she had looked out of the window. “there’s no snow. just the wind. and i feel—stifled.”

it was then that she had called up towne. “i[243] can’t dine with you.... judy is desperately ill....”

the houseworker had prepared a delicious dinner, but jane ate nothing. bob’s appetite, on the other hand, was good. he apologized for it. “i went without lunch, i was so worried.”

jane remembered her own lunch—how careless she had been for the moment, forgetting her heaviness of heart—served like a princess sheltered from every wind that blew!

and all the rest of her life might be like that! it wouldn’t be so bad. she drank a cup of coffee, and then another. and frederick had said that he could make her love him....

in the center of the table were some roses that towne had given her. she stuck one of them in her girdle.

bob finished his coffee, and stood up. “i must be going. good luck to you, old girl....” his tone was almost cheerful. he walked around the table and touched his lips to her cheek.

when she was alone, she went in and looked at the babies. junior had taken some of the animals to bed with him, and they trailed over the white cover—tiny tigers and elephants, lions and giraffes. little julia hugged her doll. how sweet she was, and such a baby!

and in the hospital judy’s arms ached to enfold that warm little body: judy’s heart beat with fear lest they should never enfold her again!

[244]the bell rang. jane, going to the door, found herself shaking with excitement.

frederick came in and took both of her hands in his. “i’m terribly sorry about the sister. is there anything i can do?”

she shook her head. she could hardly speak. “i thought if you wouldn’t mind, we’d go for a ride. and we can talk.”

“good. get your wraps.” he released her hands, and she went into the other room. as she looked into the mirror she saw that her cheeks were crimson.

she brought out her coat and he held it for her. “is this warm enough? you ought to have a fur coat.”

“oh, i shall be warm,” she said.

as he preceded her down the stairs, towne turned and looked up at her. “you are wearing my rose,” he told her, ardently; “you are like a rose yourself.”

she would not have been a woman if she had not liked his admiration. and he was strong and adoring and distinguished. she had a sense of almost happy excitement as he lifted her into the car.

“where shall we drive?” he asked.

“along the lake. i love it on a night like this.”

the moon was sailing high in a rack of clouds. as they came to the lake the waves writhed like mad sea-monsters in gold and white and black.

[245]“jane,” frederick asked softly, “what made you wear—my rose?”

she sat very still beside him. “mr. towne,” she said at last, “tell me how much—you love me.”

he gave a start of surprise. then he turned towards her and took her hand in his. “let me tell you this! there never was a dearer woman. everything that i have, all that i am, is yours if you will have it.”

there was a fine dignity in his avowal. she liked him more than ever.

“do you love me enough”—she hurried over the words, “to help me?”

“yes.” he drew her gently towards him. there was no struggle. she lay quietly against his arm, but he was aware that she trembled.

“mr. towne, judy must have a great specialist right away. it’s her only chance. if you will send for him to-night, make yourself responsible for—everything—i’ll marry you whenever you say.”

he stared down at her, unbelieving. “do you mean it, jane?”

“yes. oh, do you think i am dreadful?”

he laughed exultantly, caught her up to him. “dreadful? you’re the dearest—ever, jane.”

yet as he felt her fluttering heart, he released her gently. her eyes were full of tears. he touched her wet cheek. “don’t let me frighten you, my dear. but i am very happy.”

she believed herself happy. he was really—irresistible.[246] a conqueror. yet always with that touch of deference.

“do you love me, jane?”

“not—yet.”

“but you will. i’ll make you love me.”

with keen intuition, with his knowledge, too, of women, he asked for no further assurance. he leaned back against the cushions of the car, and holding her hand in his, made plans for their future. he would get the ring to-morrow. he would come again in a week. as soon as judy was better, he and jane would be married.

then just before they reached home he asked for the rose. she gave it to him, all fading fragrance. he touched it to her lips then crushed it against his own.

“must i be content with this?”

her quick breath told her agitation. he drew her to him, gently. “come, my sweet.”

oh, money, money. jane learned that night the power of it!

coming in with frederick from that wild moonlighted world, flushed with excitement, hardly knowing this new jane, she saw bob transformed in a moment from haggard hopelessness to wild elation.

frederick towne had made a simple statement. “jane has told me how serious things are, heming. i want to help.” then he had asked for the[247] surgeon’s name; spoken at once of a change of rooms for judy; increased attendance. there was much telephoning and telegraphing. an atmosphere of efficiency. jane, looking on, was filled with admiration. how well he did things. and some day he would be her husband!

towne was, indeed, at his best. deeply in love with her, all his generous impulses were quickened for her service. when at last he had gone, she went to bed, and lay awake almost until morning. doubts crowded upon her. her cheeks burned as she thought of the bargain she had made. he would pay her sister’s bills—and she would marry him. but it wasn’t just that! he was so tender, so solicitous. jane had not yet learned that one may be in love with being loved, which is not in the least the same as loving. against the benefits which towne bestowed upon her, she could set only her dreams of galahad, of robin hood! of romantic adventure! her memories—of evans follette.

she sighed as she thought of him. he would be unhappy. oh, darling old evans! she cried a little into her pillow. she mustn’t think of him. the thing was done. she was going to marry frederick towne!