"Oh, she was lovely—held her little head up and trotted along, asking intelligent questions, don't you know—not like a chattering kid. She pitched right into me on the governess question; she's all for Miss Percival's school, won't hear of a governess for a minute!"
"And the stern parent compromised on Miss Percival?" smiled Julia.
"Well, I only promised for a year," Jim said, shamefaced. "And you were against the governess proposition, too," he added accusingly.
"Absolutely," she assured him soothingly. "I love to have Anna with me in the afternoons, and when Bab's in town we can send her over there—she's no trouble!" Julia turned her face up for a kiss. "Run and wash your hands, Doctor dear!" said she.
"Yes—and what are you going to do?" Jim asked jealously.
"I'm going to wait for you right here, and we'll go down together," she said pacifically. Jim took another kiss.
"Happy?" he asked.
Just as he had asked her a thousand times in the past four years. And always she had answered him, as she did now:
"Happiest woman in the world, Jim!"
The happiest woman in the world! Julia, left alone, still stood dreaming in the curtained window, her eyes idly following the quiet life of the sunny street below. A hansom clattered by, an open carriage in which an old, old couple were taking an airing. Half a square away she could see the Park, with gray-clad nurses chatting over their racing charges or the tops of perambulators.