d pungent in a glass. "Now, come here," and half lifting the
little figure in his arms he put her on the couch, and tucked a plaid
warmly about her. "Don't forget that your husband is also a doctor,"
said Jim, sitting down so that he could see her face, and hold one hand
in both of his. "You're all worn out and excited, and no wonder! You
see, most girls take out their excess emotion on their families, but my
little old girl is too much alone!"

Julia's eyes were fixed on him as if she were powerless to draw them
away. It was sweet--it was poignantly sweet--to be cared for by him, to
feel that Jim's warm heart and keen mind were at her service, that the
swift smile was for her, the ardour in his eyes was all her own. For
perhaps half an hour she rested, almost without speaking, and Jim talked
to her with studied lightness and carelessness. Then suddenly she sat
up, and put her hands to her loosened hair.

"I must look wild, Jim!"

"You look like a ravishing little gipsy! But I wish you had more colour,
mouse!"

"Am I pale?" Julia asked, with a little nervous laugh. Jim dropped on
one knee beside her, and studied her with anxious eyes, and she pushed
the hair off his forehead, and rested her cheek against it with a long
sigh as if she were very tired.

"What is it, dear?" asked Jim, with infinite solicitude.

"Well!" Julia put the faintest shadow of a kiss on his forehead, then
got abruptly to her feet and crossed the room, as if she found his
nearness suddenly insufferable. "I can't break my engagement to you this
way, Jim," said she. "For even if I told you a thousand times that I had
stopped loving you"--a spasm of pain crossed her face, she shut her
hands tightly together over her heart--"even then you would know that I
love you with my whole soul," she said in a whisper with shut eyes. "But
you see," and Julia turned a pitiful smile upon him, "you see there's
something you don't understand, Jim! You say I have climbed up alone,
from being a tough little would-be actress, who lived over a saloon in
O'Farrell Street, to this! You say--and your aunt says--that I am wise,
wise to see what is worth having, and to work for it! But has it never
occurred to _one_ of you--" Julia's voice, which had been rising steadily,
sank to a cold, low tone. "No," she said, as if to herself, sitting down
at the table, and resting her arms upon it. "No, it has never occurred
to one of them to ask _why_ I am different--to ask just wh