here.

They swam, tramped, played cards, and talked tirelessly. Rachael
slept like a child on the wide, windbathed porch. To the great
satisfaction of both doctors she and Alice grew to be devoted
friends, and when Warren's holiday was over, Rachael stayed on,
for a longer visit, and the men came down in the car on Fridays.

On her birthday this year her husband gave Rachael Gregory, and
her heirs and assigns forever, a roomy, plain old colonial
farmhouse that stood near Alice's house, in a ring of great elms,
looking down on the green level surface of the sea. Rachael
accepted it with wild delight. She loved the big, homelike halls,
the simple fireplaces, the green blinds that shut a sweet twilight
into the empty rooms. Her own barns, her own strip of beach, her
own side yard where she and Alice could sit and talk, she took
eager possession of them all.

She went into town for chintzes, papers, wicker tables and chairs.
She brought old Mrs. Gregory down for the housewarming, and had
all the Valentines to dinner on the August evening when the
Gregorys moved in. And late that same evening, when Warren's arms
were about her, she told him her great news. There were to be
little feet running about Home Dunes, and a little voice echoing
through the new home. "Shall you be glad, Greg?" she asked, with
tears in her eyes; "shall you be just a little jealous?"

"Rachael!" he said in a quick, tense whisper, afraid to believe
her. And Rachael, caught in his dear arms, and with his cheek
against her wet lashes, felt a triumph and a confidence rise