“Baldy has had three proposals; he said that the first was stimulating, but repetition ‘staled the interest’! Of course he didn’t tell me the names of the girls. Baldy’s not a cad.

“But he is discouraged and desperately depressed. He has such a big talent, Judy, and he just slaves away at that old office. He says that after those years in France, it seems like a cage. I sometimes wonder what civilization is, anyhow, that we clip the wings of our young eagles. We take our boys and shut them up, and they pant for freedom. Is that all that life is going to mean for Baldy—eight hours a day—behind bars?

“Yet I am trying to keep him at it until the house is paid for. I don’t know whether I am right—but it’s all we have—and both of us love it. He hasn’t been able lately to work much at night, he’s dead tired. But there’s a prize offer of a magazine cover design, and I want him to compete. He says there isn’t any use of his trying to do anything unless he can give all of his time to it.

“Of course you’ve heard all this before, but I hear it every day. And I like to talk things out. I must not write another line, dearest. And don’t worry, Baldy will work like mad if the mood strikes him.

“Did I tell you that Evans Follette and his mother are to dine with us on Thanksgiving Day? We ought to have six guests to make things go.[15] But nobody will fit in with the Follettes. You know why, so I needn’t explain.

[15]

“Kiss both of the babies for me. Failing other young things, I am going to have a Christmas tree for the kitten. It’s a gay life, darling.

“Ever your own, “Jane.”

“Ever your own,

Jane

The darkness had come by the time she had finished her letter. She changed her frock for a thinner one, wrapped herself in an old cape of orange-hued cloth, and went out to lock up her chickens. She had fed them before she wrote her letter, but she always took this last look to be sure they were safe.

She passed through the still kitchen, where old Sophy sat by the warm, bright range. There were potatoes baking, and Sophy’s famous pudding. “How good everything smells,” said Jane.

She smiled at Sophy and went on. The wind was blowing and the sky 

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