Don't Pick Me

CHAPTER XXVII

A fairness of judgment was so essentially a part of Jane's equipment that she forced herself to be Jerry for the next few days. She knew him so well, she knew the way his mind worked, because she brought to bear not only her experience in living with him, but her imagination, too. She felt for his distress, even while she marvelled at it. She tucked away for future use this revelation of the diametrically opposed methods by which men and women attack problems. Had it been a more tangible thing, Jerry would have faced it more sanguinely, but in this realm of intellectual mazes and psychological reactions where she lived, poor Jerry was lost. He groped about, perplexed, indignant.

Two days after her confession about the book, he took up the matter again.

"Now that there is no more secret about your writing, can't you manage to do it at home?" he said.

"The point is that I do it better away from home. There is no place here where I can be safe from interruption. The telephone rings, Baby cries, I cannot concentrate."

"I do my work here."

"Yes, I admire your concentration very much, and envy you it," she said.

"I must say, it isn't always convenient for me to stay in all morning, because somebody has to watch the kid."

"I'm sure that's true, because I so often want to go out for things in the afternoon. As soon as we can afford it we must get a nurse for him, so that we both will be freer."

"After all, the baby is your first duty."

"If your present arrangement is a canker in your mind, Jerry, we must change it, of course. I have greatly appreciated your fair-mindedness about it."

"If I paint in the afternoon, I often have things to attend to in the morning."

"I've never known you to go out in the morning on business, Jerry."

"I have more to attend to than I used to."

"Very well, I will arrange it."

Jane spent an hour rearranging the household schedule, so that Anna could replace Jerry in the morning. Baby slept nearly all the time she was out, so it was just a matter of having some one within call, in case he waked. Good-natured Anna agreed to the new scheme and the next day, as Jane started off, she remarked to Jerry:

"There is no need of your staying in any more. Anna will look after Jerry."

"Very well," he said coldly.

So far as Jane knew, he never went out on the urgent business. After a late breakfast he read his paper in the nursery, just as usual, and little by little Anna faded out of the picture, and when Baby waked up, he and his father had a fine romp until Jane's return. They never mentioned it again and she smiled to herself at his calm assumption that he was free to come and go, so he stayed. If only she could make him apply that rule equally to both of them!

The contract on her book was signed and the advance paid her. It marked the first goal in her path. It seemed to her a big sum, ignorant as she was of the standards in her new market. Her first impulse was to hurry to Jerry with her prize and display it, but something held her back. He had not asked anything about the book. He had not asked to read it, he had not mentioned the contract or its terms. His silence hurt her deeply, so she kept her own counsel. Jerry was having great difficulty in getting his money for the last portrait he had painted, of the impecunious wife of a rich man, and the family funds were getting low, so it was with joy that Jane nursed the knowledge of her own reinforcements.