peaceful and companionable that you induce a defenseless onlooker
to rush off and snap up the first man she meets--and he's always
the wrong man.

Anyway, Gordon and I have quarreled definitely and finally.
I should rather have ended without a quarrel, but considering his
temperament,--and mine, too, I must confess,--we had to go off in
a big smoky explosion. He came yesterday afternoon, after
I'd written him not to come, and we went walking over Knowltop.
For three and a half hours we paced back and forth over that
windy moor and discussed ourselves to the bottommost recesses of
our beings. No one can ever say the break came through
misunderstanding each other!

It ended by Gordon's going, never to return. As I stood
there at the end and watched him drop out of sight over the brow
of the hill, and realized that I was free and alone and my own
master well, Judy, such a sense of joyous relief, of freedom,
swept over me! I can't tell you; I don't believe any happily
married person could ever realize how wonderfully, beautifully
ALONE I felt. I wanted to throw my arms out and embrace the
whole waiting world that belonged suddenly to me. Oh, it is such
a relief to have it settled! I faced the truth the night of the
fire when I saw the old John Grier go, and realized that a new
John Grier would be built in its place and that I wouldn't be
here to do it. A horrible jealousy clutched at my heart. I
couldn't give it up, and during those agonizing moments while I
thought we had lost our doctor, I realized what his life meant,
and how much more significant than Gordon's. And I knew then
that I couldn't desert him. I had to go on and carry out all of