of his previous relationship, Letty
decided that if ever this occurred it should be a quiet affair. She
wanted a simple explanation in the papers of how it had come about,
and then afterward, when things were normal again and gossip had
subsided, she would enter on a dazzling social display for his
sake.

"Why not let us get married in April and go abroad for the summer?"
she asked once, after they had reached a silent understanding that
marriage would eventually follow. "Let's go to Japan. Then we can come
back in the fall, and take a house on the drive."

Lester had been away from Jennie so long now that the first severe
wave of self-reproach had passed. He was still doubtful, but he
preferred to stifle his misgivings. "Very well," he replied, almost
jokingly. "Only don't let there be any fuss about it."

"Do you really mean that, sweet?" she exclaimed, looking over at
him; they had been spending the evening together quietly reading and
chatting.

"I've thought about it a long while," he replied. "I don't see why
not."

She came over to him and sat on his knee, putting her arms upon his
shoulders.

"I can scarcely believe you said that," she said, looking at him
curiously.

"Shall I take it back?" he asked.

"No, no. It's agreed for April now. And we'll go to Japan. You
can't change your mind. There won't be any fuss. But my, what a
trousseau I will prepare!"

He smiled a little constrainedly as she tousled his head; there was
a missing note somewhere in this gamut of happiness; perhaps it was
because he was getting old.

CHAPTER LVII

In the meantime Jennie was going her way, settling herself in the
markedly different world in which henceforth she was to move. It
seemed a terrible thing at first--this life without Lester.
Despite her own strong individuality, her ways had become so involved
with his that there seemed to be no possibility of disentangling them.
Constantly she was with him in thought and action, just as though they
had never separated. Where was he now? What was he doing? What was he
saying? How was he looking? In the mornings when she woke it was with
the sense that he must be beside her. At night as if she could not go
to bed alone. He would come after a while surely--ah, no, of
course he would not come. Dear heaven, think of that! Never any more.
And she wanted him so.

Again there were so many little trying things to adjust, for a
change of this nature is too radical to b