More Diplomacy.





I now verily believe that Jennie from the first had made up her mind
that we were to settle in Wheathedge. Though I never liked the
country, she did. And I now think that summer at Wheathedge was her
first step toward a settlement there. But she never hinted it to me.

Not she. On the contrary, she often went down to the city with me,
and shortened the car ride by half. We kept the city house open. She
exercised a watchful supervision over the cook. The sheets were not
damp, the coffee was not muddy, the library table was not covered
with dust. I blessed her a hundred times a week for the love that
found us both this Wheathedge home, and made the city home so
comfortable and cosy. Yet I came to my house in the city less and
less. The car ride grew shorter every week. When the courts closed
and the long vacation, arrived I bade the cook an indefinite
good-bye. My clients had to conform to the new office hours, 10 to
3, with Saturdays struck off the office calendar, and, in the dog
days, Mondays too. Yet I was within call, and business ran smoothly.
The country looked brighter than it used to do. I learned to enjoy
the glorious sunrise that New Yorkers never see. I discovered that
there were other indications of a moonlight night than the fact that
the street lamps were not lighted. Harry grew fat and rosy, and his
little chuckle developed into a lusty laugh. Jennie's headaches were
blown away by the fresh air that came down from the north. I found