"I really think the diving wouldn't hurt her health so much as her worrying about her husband does," the Doctor admitted. "Besides, she believes she won't be afraid of it any more. She says her rest from it has taken all her fear away." "Then you think the best thing for her to do would be to resume the plunge?" said Mrs. Tate. For a moment the Doctor stroked his chin. "Under the circumstances I should say it might," he replied slowly. "At any rate, it would be worth trying. Of course, if that haunting fear returned she'd have to stop it again." A look of triumph flashed from the face of Mrs. Tate; and when she glanced at her husband she saw that he was trying to dissemble his interest in the decision. "I shall tell her that to-morrow!" she cried. "It'll be the best news the poor thing has had for a long time. She's crazy to begin that plunge again." "I hope you are ready to take the consequences of your interference in this business," said Tate, dryly. XXI The next morning, in a long and secret talk, Mrs. Tate communicated the Doctor's judgment to Blanche. She learned that Jules was still sullen and depressed. That, of course, was a sign that his quarrel with the diver had not as yet been made up. Blanche said that she would speak to him at once about resuming the plunge; so far as she knew, no one had as yet been engaged to take Miss King's place, and perhaps Mr. Marshall would make a new contract with her on the old terms. Mrs. Tate hurried away in a state of feverish excitement, dreading, yet hoping, that she might meet Jules on the stairs, in order to reveal the great news. She would have liked to return to the apartment that very afternoon, to learn the effect of the announcement upon him; but she controlled her impatience. Jules did not return till late in the afternoon. From his manner Blanche saw at once that he was in a surly mood. He flung his coat and hat on a chair and threw himself on the couch. For a long time she did not dare to speak to him. She thought he was going to sleep, but she suddenly saw him staring at her with a look that frightened her. "Jules!" she said. He had closed his eyes again, and he seemed not to hear. "Jules." He opened his eyes, and once more she met that look. "What is it?" he grunted. Her plaintive manner vexed him; it seemed like a reflection on himself. "There's something I want to say to you," she went on apologetically, and with a suggestion of tearfulness in her voice, as if she felt disappointed at his manner of receiving her news. As he did not reply, she said: "It's about--about my plunge. I have been thinking that I'm--I'm so much better now--I mean I'm not so nervous--perhaps I can begin it again." He sat up on the couch, a light coming into his eyes. For a moment he was too surprised to speak. Then he said: "Well, I'm glad you're coming to your senses!"