n Paris with Maude. My bag was packed, my steamer trunk
closed. I strayed about the decks, in and out of the saloons, wondering
at the indifference of other passengers who sat reading in steamer-chairs
or wrote last letters to be posted at Havre. I was filled with
impatience, anticipation, yes, with anxiety concerning the adventure that
was now so imminent; with wavering doubts. Had I done the wisest thing
after all? I had the familiar experience that often comes just before
reunion after absence of recalling intimate and forgotten impressions of
those whom I was about to see again the tones of their voices, little
gestures....

How would they receive me?

The great ship had slowed down and was entering the harbour, carefully
threading her way amongst smaller craft, the passengers lining the rails
and gazing at the animated scene, at the quaint and cheerful French city
bathed in sunlight.... I had reached the dock and was making my way
through the hurrying and shifting groups toward the steamer train when I
saw Maude. She was standing a little aside, scanning the faces that
passed her.

I remember how she looked at me, expectantly, yet timidly, almost
fearfully. I kissed her.

"You've come to meet me!" I exclaimed stupidly. "How are the children?"

"They're very well, Hugh. They wanted to come, too, but I thought it
better not."

Her restraint struck me as extraordinary; and while I was thankful for
the relief it brought to a situation which might have been awkward, I was
conscious of resenting it a little. I was impressed and puzzled. As I
walked along the platform beside her she seemed almost a stranger: I had
difficulty in realizing that she was my wife, the mother of my children.
Her eyes were clear, more serious than I recalled them, and her physical
as well as her moral tone seemed to have improved. Her cheeks glowed with
health, and she wore a becoming suit of dark blue.

"Did you have a good trip, Hugh?" she asked.

"Splendid," I said, forgetting the storm. We took our seats in an empty
compartment. Was she glad to see me? She had come all the way from Paris
to meet me! All the embarrassment seemed to be on my side. Was this
composure a controlled one or had she indeed attained to the
self-sufficiency her manner and presence implied? Such were the questions
running through my head.

"You've really liked Paris?" I asked.

"Yes, Hugh, and it's been very good for us all. Of course the boys like
America