s wide open she made her choice,
and assuredly it had been worth while. Her father was happy; the old
house was safe and her husband was kind. . . . Only as the car glides
away from the door, her grey eyes once again rest on a weeping willow. A
fat old carp rises with a splash and she sees the ripples widening. . . .
And the smile fades from her lips, because--well, thoughts are capricious
things, and the weeping willow and the carp remind her of a certain
afternoon, and what a certain foolish weaver of fantasies said to
her. . . once in the long ago. Much has she got--much has she given to
others. It may have been worth while--but she has lost the biggest thing
in Life. That has passed her by. . . ."

"The biggest thing in Life," she whispered. "I wonder; oh! I wonder."

"Maybe she would never have found it," he went on, "even if she had not
married the man of great possessions. And then, indeed, she could have
said with reason--'I sure have made a damn fool of myself.' To throw
away the chances of costly furs and sparkling gems; to see _les papillons
noirs_ fluttering round her father's head in increasing numbers--and not
to find the biggest thing in Life after such a sacrifice--yes, that would
be too cruel. So, on balance, perhaps she had chosen wisely. . . ."

"And is that all!" she asked him. "Is there no other course?" She
leaned towards him, and her lips were parted slightly. For a moment or
two he watched the slow rise and fall of her bosom, and then with a
short, hard laugh he turned away.

"You want a lot for your money, my lady," he said, and his voice shook a
little. "But I will paint you another picture, before we drift through
the branches back to the boat-house and--reality. I see another
house--just an ordinary nice comfortable house--four reception, ten bed,
h. & c. laid on, with garage. Close to good golf links. A girl in grey
is standing in the hall, leaning over a pram in which the jolliest,
fattest boy you've ever thought of is sitting and generally bossing the
entire show. He is reputed by his nurse, who is old enough to know
better, to have just spoken his first consecutive sentence. To the
brutal and unimaginative father who is outside with his golf clubs it had
sounded like 'Wum--wah!' According to the interpreter it meant that he
wanted an egg for tea; and it was being duly entered up in a book which
contained spaces for Baby's first tooth, the first time he was sick, when