Jane endured three nervous days at the hospital before she was ill. Jerry was in and out all day, and Bobs and Jinny Chatfield spent much of the time with her. She was grateful to them, but secretly she wished they would not fuss over her. She had wanted to crawl away into this quiet place, to get this ordeal over by herself.

She was interested in the hospital rÉgime, which was entirely new to her. She liked the smooth efficiency of it. Quiet nurses coming and going, doctors padding silently up and down the halls. She had an agreeable nurse, who answered her questions intelligently. She developed an interest in the cases about her.

Her room looked off over the Hudson, and she spent hours watching the boats. She learned the hours of the Albany boat, and often she laughed at the tugs, they were so like pompous little men. She spoke to Bobs about it one day.

"The river has just as individual a life as Broadway, and the boats are so like people."

Bobs smiled at the idea.

"I'm glad you've got something to amuse you. You must be nearly wild with this waiting."

"Oh, no. I have lots to mull over in my mind. I visited my neighbour yesterday, and saw her new baby. Bobs, women don't realize yet what Twilight Sleep is bringing to them. It is one of the biggest discoveries of our age."

"How, Jane?"

"Don't you see what wide-reaching results it may have for us? If we are relieved of the nervous shock and agony of birth, if the dread of this ordeal is lessened, that alone is important. But it will mean everything to the woman with a job, or the mother with other small children dependent upon her care."

"You mean her escape from the shock and pain?"

"I mean that she gets up, in two or three days, in almost normal health, instead of lying by for weeks."

"But your labouring woman gets up now in two or three days, doesn't she?"

"Yes, but look at the results. Talk to the doctors at the free dispensaries about what it does to them. I honestly believe that those two German doctors in the Black Forest have done more to free women than any other single agency of our times. I'm so glad to live now, Bobs, to be part of this wonderful century, to take advantage of its big experiments."

"Jane, the way you eat up the experiences of life is amazing to me!"

They both laughed at that, and veered off to Bobs's impressions of the stable Jerry had rented. He had taken her over it, to help him in some decisions.

"Bobs, the truth, now. Is it a wild mistake?"

"It's perfectly charming, but it looks a bit plutocratic from my humble attic point of view."

"It will probably ruin him to keep it up."

"He has it all planned. I never knew Jerry to be so sane. He says he has several portrait orders now, and more coming."

"Just when we wanted to get him away from portraits. Oh, Bobs, life gets so complicated, and mixed up," mourned Jane.

"Don't I know that? You can't have babies for nothing in these days, Jane. He must have known that."

"But he didn't want to have any. This is my baby, pure and simple, and I really ought to pay for having it."

"You ridiculous person! I think you're paying your share. Jerry will be mad about it, when it's here. He's the kind. I know plenty of them. They make me furious, but they're all right in the end."

"I wish he didn't have to see it until it was two years old. I've seen some of the tiny ones, Bobs, and they're awful."

The next day Jane's time came. She asked them to telephone for Jerry, and when he arrived she seemed to find comfort in having him beside her. They talked and he read to her until she could not listen any longer. Just before she had her first hypodermic she turned to him.

"Stay with me, Jerry."

"Of course."

"If anything happens to me, let Bobs take care of the baby."

That was her last conscious sentence, and her next was: "Can't you hurry it up?" Then she vaguely saw the doctor giving something in a glass to a haggard-looking man, who sat by the bed. She finally made out that the man was Jerry. She heard the doctor say that he would be all right, so she went to sleep in peace.

Seven hours later she opened her eyes. It was night. The nurse was bending over a bed in the corner. Her mind went back.

"Is that Jerry?" she asked.

"It's little Jerry," the nurse said, and lifted a swaddled bundle and brought it to her. She looked at it long and seriously.

"You're sure that's mine?" she said.

"Very sure."

"Take it away, please."

"It's a grand baby, Mrs. Paxton."

"Did my husband see it?"

"Not yet. The doctor put him to bed."

"Don't let him see it. Keep it covered up."

"But he'll be wanting to see his son."

"Not till he's better looking. It would be an awful shock to Jerry to see it now."

Then she went to sleep again. When she woke, Jerry was beside her.

"I'm sorry he's so plain," was her first word.

"He's a fine boy, Jane," he said, with a gulp.

Two days later, when Bobs was admitted, Jane confessed to her her shortcomings in the new rÔle.

"I didn't do it right at all, Bobs."

"Why not?"

"In books and plays the mother always says, 'My baby, my own beautiful boy,' when they put her infant in her arms. The father always says, 'little mother!' You know, you've seen it in pictures. Well, I said: 'It's ugly, take it away,' and Jerry lied to comfort me."

Bobs and the nurse laughed at this tragic tale.

"I like him better than I did at first, though. He has nice hands," Jane admitted.

Bobs inspected the hero again.

"I think he's a duck of a bambino," she said. "He looks quite human."

"Well, I should hope so," said his mother indignantly.

"This room looks like a garden, Jane."

"Isn't it lovely? Jerry is beggaring himself. All the dear people in the studios, the Brendons, even Althea, sent a tribute. And Martin sends flowers every day. I find I love being a part of this smooth mechanism. I like the things the nurse feeds me, and my importance. I'm ruined, probably."

Jerry came in.

"Hello, Bobs. Doesn't she look fine?"

"She does."

"Did she let you see the exhibit over here?"

"I forced her to, the unwomanly thing. She derides his manly beauty."

"He'll be all right when he grows up to his skin," laughed Jerry. "Talk about the Magic Skin, he's got enough for a fat man. It took some ingenuity to get it wrinkled up all over him, so he could carry it."

"You unfeeling parents! I hope he hears every word you say, and turns against you in your old age."

"We feel that he is interesting, but not beautiful, don't we, Jane?"

She nodded, smiling.

"I shall repeat this to you at times when you are doting on his looks."

"We'll take your dare, Bobs. Say, Jane, when do you want to see Christiansen? He asked me when he could pay his respects."

"Let him come to-morrow, Jerry, at five."

"'Tis done. Ever see such a model husband, Bobs?"

"I invite you both to come to-morrow at five."

"Let's take her up, Bobs, and watch our Martin pin a rose on handsome Jerry."

Jane sat in the early dusk the next evening and watched the lights come out along the river banks, and twinkle on the boats. Martin was announced, and she went to him, hands out, face shining.

"But it is a miracle!" he exclaimed. "You are well, and beautiful again. Where is this mythical child?"

She laughed and led him to the bed where the baby lay, wide-eyed, inspecting the brand-new universe.

"This is Martin, my son. I want you to be friends," she said softly to him.

Martin bent to insert one forefinger in the tightly closed fist.

"How do you do, my lad? I greet you to this planet."

The baby looked at the source of the big voice. Then an infantile spasm crossed his face.

"Ha! he laughs at our planet! He knows Venus, perhaps, or Mars."

"He looks as if he had known the jungle. He's like a wise little old monkey," laughed Jane.

"So he is. That always fascinates me about the young of our race, they seem to hook us on to our past, to our blood brothers Babu and Mowgli, the Manling. You remember how Whitman said it?

"I am the acme of things accomplished, and I an encloser of things to be.
Long I was hugged close, long and long.
Immense have been the preparations for me,
Faithful and friendly the arms that have helped me.
Cycles ferried my cradle, rowing and rowing like cheerful boatmen—
For room to me, stars kept aside in their own rings,
They sent influences to look after what was to hold me."

He spoke the words softly to small Jerry.

"Yes, yes, that's what I've been searching. It is splendid to be a part of the great processes of life!" said Jane, head high, eyes shining.

"Even so, my friend, I have come to congratulate you upon your valour, and your achievement."

They sat for an hour, talking earnestly.

"What now, comrade? A rest for a year or so, until the youngling is on his feet?"

"No, no. I am bursting with new ideas for the book. I shall finish it this winter, Martin."

"Not too fast. You have crowded the big experiences into this year, indomitable Jane. 'Easy does it,' as the old proverb says."

"I have gobbled them down, but I will digest my big experiences slowly, I promise you. I am full of life and vigour and passion for work. This year ought to bring a big harvest."

"Your book is in my thoughts a great deal. I have spoken of it to a publisher friend, and he wants to see it. He will appreciate its quality, I know. It will not be a 'best seller,' Jane."

"Of course not. I don't want it to. I suppose my public is like the baby. I shall get acquainted with it, after it is born, and love it. But just now my mind is full of saying what is in my thoughts—in my heart."

"You will get the audience that belongs to you. 'I know my own shall come to me' is true between author and audience."

"I haven't told Jerry, yet."

"You are still shy about it?"

"No one knows but you."

"That fact may lead me on over to posterity. It may be my one claim to fame."

"You're making fun of me, Martin!"

"Well, here, we can't have that," said Jerry, coming in briskly.

"Here you are," said Jane, patting the hand he laid on her shoulder.

Christiansen shook hands with him.

"Again my congratulations."

"Thanks. It's a pretty fine exhibition, isn't it?"

"It is—the best you've made," replied Martin, joining in the laugh.