After this talk, which irked him more than he cared to admit to himself, he was much away. In the tender care of Mrs. Brendon and Althea he sailed and soared into the most ethereal social circles. He tead, and lunched, hither and thither, always on business, as he told Jane. He even went to a dinner or so, to which she was not invited, "to try to pull off an order." If she resented his desertion, she never showed it by a glance. In fact, she had dropped back into the silent, brooding Jane of the days before he married her. He came and went with as little comment as in those days. But she went with him, in his mind. He promised himself that, as soon as this campaign for orders was over, he would take time to cultivate Jane, to learn to know her true self. He was becoming a trifle afraid of her judgments. As for Jane, she saw, understood, and accepted the situation. After her one protest against his prostitution of his talent for "a handful of silver," she let the matter rest. She meant to bring it up again, however. His absence from her gave her unrestricted time for her own work, which she felt was progressing finely. She had many long consultations with Christiansen, sometimes at the studio, sometimes in the Park where they went to walk. He encouraged and stimulated her. Bobs acquired the habit of dropping in on Jane, in her free hours. Jane suspected that a deep pity for Jerry's neglected wife was the reason for her attention, but she welcomed her cordially, and slowly a sure friendship began to develop between them. There was an honesty and simplicity in the two women which made them akin. By mutual and unspoken consent they never discussed Jerry. They had long talks, they went about to exhibitions together, where Jane profited by Bobs's knowledge of art. She had set herself to some sort of study and understanding of painting, with the shadowy thought that she might be of some help to Jerry some time, if she understood his medium. She read the books prescribed by Bobs, she saw all the permanent exhibitions, and found with the new knowledge a deep pleasure. Bobs often berated her for her taste, but admitted she was an intelligent pupil. "You've got the instinct, Jane, you ought to create something." "Maybe, some day," Jane evaded. As spring came on, Jane felt terribly dragged. She noticed it first by the difficulty she had in getting upstairs to her workshop. Several breathing spells were necessary, and a brief rest on the bed, when she finally arrived. Then came long brooding spells, when she sat motionless at her desk, feeling that all the forces in herself, in nature without, were focussed within her own being. The work went slowly, and unevenly. It was in April that Jerry, watching Jane clear the table one night, saw her go suddenly white and sit down quickly. He went to her hastily. "What is it, Jane; are you faint?" "Yes. Jerry, we are going to have a child."