room, of the attitude of Jeannette's family
toward James McKenzie Stuart. It had not been difficult to come to the
conclusion that for Jeannette's sake they would accept him, and that for
his own sake they were forced, in varying degrees, to like him. How
could they help it? she wondered, when they looked at his fine, frank
face and observed his manly bearing. He was college bred; he was a
successful worker with his brain as well as with his hands, for his
farming was scientific farming, and his results established a model for
the community. He was by no means poor--and yet--Georgiana realized that
the change for Jeannette from a home of luxury to one of comparative
austerity of living would be a tremendous one. Well, such events had
occurred before in the world's history, and it was by no means
unthinkable that they should occur again. As Georgiana noted the tense
look on Stuart's face, and saw the hardly abated suffering in his eyes,
she said to herself that if Jeannette cared as much for him as he for
her, she cared quite enough to bring her family to terms at any price.

The door opened again, as quietly as hospital doors invariably open,
and Doctor Westfall advanced once more into the room, followed by a
younger man with a grave, clean-cut face and the unassuming, quietly
assured bearing of established success. As Georgiana's eyes fell upon
the distinguished surgeon whose name was Jefferson Craig she recognized
her former lodger, Mr. E. C. Jefferson. That she did not for a moment
wonder what Mr. Jefferson was doing here in the famous surgeon's place
was due to the fact that her mind instantly bridged the chasm between
the two personalities and made them one. Yet there was a subtle, but
easily recognizable, difference between the personality of Mr. Jefferson
and that of Doctor Craig. There could be no question that here his foot
was on his native heath! The literary worker had for the time vanished,
and here was the man who did things with his hands and did them better
than other men. She had long understood that he had another and more
active place in the world than that which he had temporarily occupied as
solely a writer of books. This was the place, and nothing could have
seemed less surprising than to find him in it.

At the same time, the finding occasioned a difficulty in maintaining her
own composure of face and manner. She had known Mr. Jefferson; she did
not know Doctor Craig. She understood instantly, wit