The thing she worried about was Judy. “She told me in one of her letters that she wasn’t well.”
Baldy went to bring his car around, and Evans stood with his hand on the back of Jane’s chair, looking down at her. “You’ll write to me, Jane?”
“Oh, of course.”
He shifted his hand from the chair back to her shoulder. “Dear little girl, if my blundering prayers will help you any—you’ll have them.”
She turned in her chair and looked up at him. She could not speak. Their eyes met, and once more Jane had that breathless sense of fluttering wings within her that lifted to the sun.
Then Baldy was back, and the bags were ready, and there was just that last hand-clasp. “God bless you, Jane....”
Frederick Towne was at the train. He had been dismayed at the news of Jane’s departure. “Do you mean that you are going to stay indefinitely?” he had asked over the wire.
“I shall stay as long as Judy needs me.”
Frederick had flowers for her, books and a big box of sweets. People in the Pullman stared at Jane in the midst of all her magnificence. They stared too, at Towne, and at Briggs, who rushed in at the last moment with more books from Brentano.
Edith and Baldy were on the platform. Edith had come down with Towne. So Frederick, alone with Jane, said, “I want you to think of the things we talked about yesterday——”