“I’ve great news for you,” said Anthony, coming home one March day, when little Tony was nearing his second birthday. “It’s about the Careys. Guess.”
“They are going to housekeeping.”
“How did you know?”
“I didn’t know, but Judith told me weeks ago she supposed she should have to come to it. Have they found a house?”
“Carey thinks he has. Judith doesn’t like the place, for about fifty good and sufficient reasons—to her. He’s trying to persuade her. He has an option on it for ten days. He wants us to come out and look at it with them.”
“Where is it?”
“About as far east of the city as we are north. If to-morrow is a good day I promised we would run out with them on the ten-fifteen. I suspect they need us badly. Wayne looks like a man distracted. The great trouble, I fancy, is going to be that Judith Dearborn Carey is still too much of a Dearborn to be able to make a home out of anything. And Carey can’t do it alone.”
“Indeed he can’t, poor fellow. I never saw a man in my life who wanted a home as badly as Wayne does. Let’s do our best to help them.”
“We will. But the only way to do it thoroughly is to make Judith over. Even you can’t accomplish that.”
“There’s hope, if she has agreed at all to trying the experiment,” Juliet declared, and thought about her friends all the rest of the day.