It took her fully an hour to get them all quiet and asleep. Next day, first one and then another of her roomers came to tell her that they had to leave. Some made one excuse, some another; only one told her the truth, saying, “You ought to know better than to keep people in your house when your children cry as they did last night. I hate to leave you, but it unnerves me to hear such a racket. I work hard all day and must rest at night. This is the third time now. You ought to put them in a home like other women do.” It was this that made her decide to go to the colony that was near the city she had been living in. It was one of the many branches that had been successful and had been exchanging with the original society in its productions.
That spring found her living comfortably among green fields and free to earn a living by renting tents to those who only wished to stay in the country a few weeks at a time. Her baby was then two years old and she kept him in the nursery; this left her free to attend to her business, as the other children were in the boarding school.
CHAPTER XIV.
Mrs. Moberly was looking forward to the time when she could secure enough money to take her back to the relatives she had left so many years before. Little by little she was selling her household goods, the members securing customers so as to help her. Any new members coming to the colony were asked to buy of her, if they needed anything. The story would be told over and over again how that she hadn’t seen her mother for many years. She had sold everything except the things she needed for her personal use. The new comers had been told how she rented tents in the summer by putting her surplus furniture in them, and many bought to do the same thing. She had now enough to cover all her expenses for traveling when who should appear but her husband. He was well dressed and upon asking for her was told at once where to find her. No one suspected who he was.
“Mira, don’t drive me away. I am sorry that I treated you as I did,” he said. “I want to see my children. Where are they?”
“Jack Moberly, how dare you even come in my presence after the wrong you have done me?”
“Mira, I must see the children.”
“They are not here,” she answered, “and neither can you see them until you have assured me that you will go away after you have seen them.”
“Mira, won’t you live with me again?” he begged. “I love you. I love my children.”
She looked at him for a moment, and a great longing came to her that it might be true.