to work, and the
sentence of three months' complete rest is a great disappointment; but,
if he'll feed up and rest, there's no reason why he shouldn't be as well
as he ever was; I'm glad to say that his uncle has behaved quite well.
After doing NOTHING all these years for him or Agnes or his own brother,
he has at last shewn some decent feeling. If Jack has to be a partial
invalid all his life, Lord Waring will give him whatever money's
necessary to let him live anywhere he likes and take up any hobby he
likes; if he wants to marry (I can't imagine that of Jack), there'll be
a proper settlement_. . . ."

If Jack, who was certainly not going to be a pauper, probably not even
an invalid, had passed through London without coming to see Barbara,
that meant that he did not want to see Barbara. Perhaps he _had_ seen
her. . . .

Eric telephoned to Berkeley Square and found his voice greeted with
surprise and apprehensive pleasure.

"I thought you were in the country! You _are_ getting restless, Eric!
When did you come up?"

"Only two days ago. Babs . . . Jack's in England; he called here during
the week-end, but of course I was away. I . . . I thought you'd like to
know."

"Thank you, Eric," she answered quietly.

There was a pause which neither liked to break. At last Eric said:

"He didn't come to see you? Why don't you recognize that it's all over,
Babs? You say that your soul isn't yours and that you owe it to Jack;
well, he's had the chance to come and claim it."

There was a second pause followed by a sigh.

"It's hard to explain, Eric. You see, only he and I know how much he was
in love with me before. I was the only person he'd ever cared for. . . .
Even I didn't understand how much he loved me until that night." She
sighed again. "I don't believe that, after loving me, he could suddenly
cease to love me."

"You gave him pretty good provocation," Eric suggested.

"But you don't cease loving people because they behave badly to you.
I've behaved abominably to _you_. You've given me everything, and all
I've done in return is to make you ill and miserable. I've ruined your
work, your life--you've told me so, Eric. I've been utterly selfish and
heartless. You know I'm vain, you know I'm spoiled, you admit I've
behaved atrociously. But you want to marry me in spite of it all."

"I love you in spite of it all."

Barbara said nothing, and her silence was a confession and answer. There
were a hundred reasons w