egotist? There was no egotism left in Nancy now, she was only a
busy woman in a world of busy women. She knew backache and
headache, and moods of weary irritation. The cut of her gowns, the
little niceties of table-service or of children's clothing no
longer concerned her. She merely wanted her family comfortable,
fed and housed and clothed, and well. Nancy could advise other
women about the capable handling of children, before her firstborn
was three years old.

They never went to "The Old Hill House" again, but they found a
primitive but comfortable hotel in the Maine woods, for Ned's
second summer, and for several summers after that. Here Nancy
slept and tramped and rested happily, welcoming Bert rapturously
every week-end. In near-by cabins, young matrons like herself were
likewise solving the children's summer problem, she was never
lonely, and the eight free, pine-scented weeks were cloudlessly
happy. She told Bert that it was the only sensible solution for
persons in moderate circumstances; old clothes, simple food, utter
solitude.

"There are no comparisons to spoil things," Nancy said,
contentedly. "I know I'm small-minded, Bert. But seeing things I
can't have does upset me, somehow!"




Chapter Ten