He gave a half snarl, half exclamation. “You always wanted to see me a failure! Enjoy yourself,”—picking up his hat. “Caleb, I came back because I was not needed over there. I came back to be a real woman—and my first job is to make you a real man. I shall marry you, almost before I unpack my trunks, and proceed to show you that the really great things in life are never written out; that your firm have had the courage, no matter what their motive, to show you the truth, and your wife is going to see that you follow it!” As he stared at her, half enraged and half delighted, he realized that here spoke a new and rejuvenated woman and artist combined. The clever, sallow face was blushing prettily and there was something softly beautiful in the dark eyes. At that moment neither knew they were about to join Thurley’s angel-band and with the gray angels not to sing—but to do. “Suppose I’m a permanent failure, grumbling and jealous of your success and bitter towards the world at large? You want to take such a risk? And it is a risk, laugh all you wish and shake your head, I’m terribly done up, feel gone to bits, brain of an oyster and my nerves are shaky—” “You remind me of nothing more terrible, Caleb, than the picture over which the world has often smiled: the tiny lad sitting on a doorstep and murmuring in hopes cruel relatives will overhear and be grief-stricken and remorseful, ‘I’m going into the garden to eat worms!’ And we all know, relatives included, what a stampede indoors there would be if some one called out, ‘But, oh, Jack, before you do, let’s go to the circus and have pink lemonade—’.” CHAPTER XXXVIII Thurley, Polly and Bliss Hobart were taking a turn about the Fincherie gardens to discuss a multitude of detail, whether or not Caleb and Ernestine Patmore, gay deceivers to be married all in a moment and never let any one know, would visit the Fincherie as soon as Ernestine’s letter intimated. Why had Collin and Mark stopped writing? Didn’t the exhibition of doll houses for the coming Christmas market speak well for the work being done? And if Hobart had spoken in favor of the leather department, Polly championed the wireless school and the brass and copper hand industries. She had shown favoritism, as well, for she sang three songs for those boys and only two and a half for the others. Thurley drew their attention to a newly finished sun dial. “You see,” she said, as they took chairs within a summer house, “it is getting used to one’s self that is the trick. We all have to do it in some way or other at some time. I dare say if one were born with four fingers and an extra one appeared without warning, it would be quite a task to know how to provide for the newcomer ... besides, they all feel it has been worth while,” she added, turning her eager, flushed face towards Bliss Hobart. “Why hasn’t the town put up a statue of you?” asked Polly. “Do people salaam when they meet you?”