But what, after the first settling was over, had they to say? The same thought was in all their minds. What was Jeffrey going to do? He knew that, and moved unhappily. Whatever he was going to do, he wouldn't talk about it. But Miss Amabel was approaching him with the clearest simplicity. "Jeff, my dear," she said, "I can't wait to hear about your ideal republic." And then, all his satisfaction gone and his scowl come back, Jeff shook his head as if a persistent fly had lighted on him, and again he disclaimed achievement. "Amabel," said he, "I'm awfully sick of that, you know." "But, dear boy, you revolutionised--" she was about to add, "the prison," but stumbled lamely--"the place." "The papers told us that," said Choate. It was apparent he was helping somebody out, but whether Jeff or Miss Amabel even he couldn't have said. "It isn't revolutionised," said Jeff. He turned upon Choate brusquely. "It's exactly the same." "They say it's revolutionised," Miss Amabel offered anxiously. "Who says so?" he countered, now turning on her. "The papers," she told him. "You didn't write me about it. I asked you all sorts of questions and you wouldn't say a word." "But you wrote me," said Jeff affectionately, "every week. I got so used to your letters I sha'n't be able to do without them; I shall have to see you every day." "Of course we're going to see each other," she said. "And there's such a lot you can do." She looked so earnestly entreating that Choate, who sat not far from her, gave a murmured: "Ah, Miss Amabel!" In his mind the half-despairing, wholly loving thought had been: "Good old girl! You're spending yourself and all your money, but it's no use--no use." She was going on with a perfect clarity of purpose. "Oh, you know, Jeff can do more for us than anybody else." "What do you want done for you?" he inquired. His habit of direct attack gave Lydia a shiver. She was sure people couldn't like it, and she was exceedingly anxious for him to be liked. Miss Amabel turned to Farvie. "You see," she said, "Addington is waking up. I didn't dwell very much on it," she added, now to Jeff, "when I wrote you, because I thought you'd like best to think of it as it was. But now--" "Now I'm out," said Jeff brutally, "you find me equal to it." "I think," said Miss Amabel, "you can do so much for us." Nothing troubled her governed calm. It might almost be that, having looked from high places into deep ones, no abyss could dizzy her. "Weedon Moore feels as I do." "Weedon Moore?" Jeffrey repeated, in a surprised and most uncordial tone. He looked at Choate. "Yes," said Choate, as if he confirmed not only the question but Jeff's inner feeling, "he's here. He's practising law, and besides that he edits the _Argosy_." "Owns it, too, I think," said Farvie. "They told me so at the news-stand." "Well," said Choate pointedly, "it's said Miss Amabel owns it."